CITS: AU Collections
by Sassy Satsuma
Summary: A collection of spin off one shots from my main fic, Caught in the System. Basically a place for me to explore other pairings and ideas that don't fit into my main plot, hopefully for your reading pleasure. Lara/anyone plus other pairings along the way.
1. Home Truths: GhostxBones

_**Warning!**__ I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course. _

**Note from Sassy: **Ok, so thanks to the responses I got, I decided to go out on a limb and post these random one shots/drabbles. Just to clarify again that these aren't really connected to my main CITS plot, aside from the fact they contain Lara McCoy. They're basically prompts I write just for fun to explore my characters and other AU situations. This one is Lara/Ghost but I have other drabbles written that include random pairings such as Lara/Toad and Lara/Toad/Archer. :) Hell there may even be pairings that don't include Lara. I should also dedicate this particular one shot to **MisMot** too, because I initially wrote it for her since she inspired like… two thirds of it. :P Love you Jacob!

To quickly set the scene, this drabble takes place about six months into Lara and Ghost's fuck buddy relationship, with no hints of the MW2 plot rearing its ugly head…

* * *

><p>"So…" The sudden explosion of noise into her room caused Lara's heart to thunder in her chest and she spun round, her mouth shaped into a highly unattractive 'O'. Ghost was stood in the doorway, his right arm leaning against the doorframe. For once, his face wasn't the usual self satisfied one that she was used to. "You can't wait to leave then?" He nodded to the half filled suitcase on her bed casually. "Is that it?"<p>

"You could say that." She shrugged idly. "Figured I'd make the most of it." She turned her back, clumsily folding another t-shirt and shoving it into the suitcase. "Don't know if I'll get another chance."

"Such defeatist bollocks." Ghost rolled his eyes, stepping into the room.

"_Piss off_. We're not all fucking made of stone like you."

"Too fucking right." She expected him to leave, but he didn't, instead moving further into the room. Lara could feel his eyes burning into her back, the movement of her hands quickening in an attempt to break the tension. Riley cleared his throat, speaking again, although this time his voice had a softer, alien quality that she didn't quite recognise. "This job isn't gonna be the death of you, Bones."

"Really? And what makes you so sure?"

"I just fucking _know_, alright?"

"Sure you do." She scoffed quickly, throwing in a couple of books to weigh down the already packed clothing. "Or what, you going to start throwing yourself in front of bullets for me now?" She rolled her eyes as she turned round, her hands firmly on her hips. "Give it a rest, Riley. We both know you're no good at whatever…_this_ is."

"Christ, you're a tough crowd." She'd expected him to be at least angry but the rough grin Riley's face split into threw her off guard completely. He took a few steps towards her, leaning past her body so that he could stare curiously at the contents of her case, his arm brushing against hers as a result. "Where's home then?"

"What?"

"_Home._" He rolled his eyes almost patronisingly. "You've never told me where you're from."

"Neither have you."

"Accent didn't give you a clue then?" He laughed quickly. "Stepney, London. And before you ask, yes, it _is_ a complete shithole." Lara's features quirked into an involuntary smile, one that wasn't unnoticed by Ghost due to their close proximity. His smirk grew wider. "So?"

"… York. Or just out of it anyway." Lara shrugged quickly.

"Dirty northerner, eh?" Riley scoffed. "Thought as much."

"Oh _fuck off_, Simon."

"You don't mean that…" She should have anticipated it but the hand that suddenly found its way onto her right hip still made her jump in her skin, the thumb grazing over the area knowingly. Lara froze to deter him, but Riley knew her all too well, the hand making the calculated move of sliding beneath her t shirt and pressing against her abdomen. Slipping so that he was stood in front of her, Riley leant forwards, grazing his lips against her neck slowly. "You're going to be without me for three weeks, right?"

"Yeah…" As much as she'd try and deny it, Lara's knees were already starting to buckle.

"Are you gonna find someone else to fuck?" His voice was light and amused as he leant in to kiss her neck again.

"For three weeks? Be more trouble than its worth." Lara blamed Riley's near constant kisses to her neck for the movement of her hand as it settled on his waist, pulling him that little bit closer. "I bet you will though."

"No way." Riley shook his head. "I don't like making too many links around where I live."

"Links?" Lara raised an eyebrow. "I thought _you_ didn't get attached?"

"_I_ don't but they do." His lips moved to her jaw this time. "It's not for me."

"You honestly want me to believe that you're a real family man on leave?" Lara laughed softly, only stopping herself when she felt Riley tense in front of her, his mouth freezing against her skin. He didn't pull away, but he made no move to advance anything, his breath lightly tickling against her face. "…What?"

"It's nothing."

"It _is_." She pulled away to look him in the eye. "I know you…you don't just _stop_. What's wrong?"

"Fucking leave it."

"No… tell me what I said wrong." She knew that it was unlikely to hurt him but her other hand traced down to his wrist, gripping it tightly. "I know jack shit about you as it is."

"Lara-"

"Fucking _tell_ me."

"…I'm not…a _family_ man, alright?" He sighed, pulling away from her quickly, his face half turned away. "Used to be but it all went to shit."

"What happened?"

"I died and became a ghost." His gaze returned to her, sarcastic as always. "And that's all you're fucking getting out of me."

"So there's no one?"

"Exactly, _no one_. Cheers for the reminder."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. I like it that way." He shook his head bluntly. "Makes all this very simple."

"You don't mean that."

"Telling me what to think now?" He smirked darkly. "What did I tell you about the psychology bullshit?"

"It's not psychology, its fucking common sense." She rolled her eyes despairingly. "But fine, play it that way if you want."

"Oh don't worry, I will." She watched him turn away and walk to her door slowly, yet resolutely, his body language back to the stern, standoffish nature that she was so accustomed to. In her mind, Lara knew that she should just let him leave and say nothing more. But unfortunately her head had stopped making those kind of important decisions long ago, her heart and all of its rash compassion steadily getting the best of her logic. Before she could stop herself, Lara was speaking after him. "It's only three hours on the train."

"… What is?" Riley turned around, his features wary.

"London to York." She shrugged, her mouth in free fall. "60 quid both ways and I could pick you up from the station." She paused for a second, quickly dreaming up more incentives. "We even have a spare room."

"What the fuck are you suggesting?" Riley raised a curious eyebrow.

"What does it sound like?" Lara shook her head, her hands automatically coming to rest on her hips. "What I'm suggesting isn't much, but it's got to be better than three weeks of wall to wall drinking."

"And if I say no?"

"Then you say no." Lara sighed. "Just think about it."

"Then I might…" Ghost cleared his throat quickly. "Think about it I mean."

As he'd left her room that day, Lara had never once thought that Riley might actually take her up on her offer. As it was it turned out she didn't know Simon Riley _quite_ as well as she'd first thought.

A week into their leave she'd received a phone call out of the blue. It hadn't lasted long but the message was more than clear. The following afternoon, Lara was sat patiently in her mum's car outside the train station, tapping expectantly at the steering wheel. In civilian jeans and an almost alien dark grey shirt, Lara had almost missed Riley as he approached the car, throwing himself into the passenger seat and almost instinctively turning up the radio. Lara had been strangely relieved by the gesture. She'd been anxious about just what to say to him ever since they'd gotten off the phone the day before.

She needn't have worried. Old habits died hard and as a result half an hour later had seen them in the back seat of the car in an isolated countryside car park, Ghost's head buried between her legs and Lara left wondering just why exactly she didn't invite him up to York any sooner.

"So…" Riley had said softly, sated, as he leant back as much as possible against the car's mottled back seat. "What else is there to do in this godforsaken place?"

For lack of anything better to suggest, Lara had decided on a club, avoiding an awkwardly long introduction to her mother by dragging him upstairs to his room. It was her brother's, or at least it had been once and although they both knew that he most likely wouldn't be spending all that much time in it, they moved what little luggage he had up there for appearance's sake. Leaving him suitably entertained, Lara had chosen to get dressed as quickly as possible, raiding the slightly more feminine side of her wardrobe for something presentable. In the end she chose a denim mini skirt, a garment that was well worn but now a little loose on the hips after her rigorous training with the task force. For her top she'd opted for a demure black shimmering blouse, but the fabric was too tight around her biceps and so she was forced to choose a purple backless halter neck top, the clothing at least hanging off her chest and giving her the illusion that she had some tits.

"…Fuck." Riley had hissed as she stepped into his room, her face expectant as she tapped at her watch. He stood up slowly, his eyes looking her up and down for the first time in…well in as long as she could remember. "You're a fucking _woman_."

"No shit." She rolled her eyes, tapping at her skirt pockets to check that she had her purse. "Are we going or not?"

"We could just stay 'ere." He gave her a sly smile.

"And do what exactly?"

"I have a few ideas."

"And this room has creaking floor boards. There's a _reason_ we fucked in the car before." Lara rolled her eyes, stepping forwards and giving him a shove towards the door. "Come on, I don't want to be queuing for the rest of my life."

Inside the club, the air was hot and humid, sticking to her skin like a film as she pulled Riley over to the bar with her. Lara was determined to make the most of it and she bought the first round of drinks, three straight up shots of tequila each. The amber, bitter liquid didn't last long and Riley bought the next round asking the barman for some hideous concoction that contained at least four different types of vodka and a mixer. He downed it in one swallow and although Lara tried to match him she found herself resorting to drinking it in quick, staggered gulps, the intensity of the alcohol burning the back of her throat. Sensibly they both settled for a bottled beer next, deciding that if they carried on with spirits they'd never make it until the end of the night.

"Lanky McCoy… is that you?" As was the custom in clubs Lara only heard the woman's screeching voice when she was practically stood on top of her, a mix of sickly sweet perfume and fake tan assaulting her nostrils. The woman was Katie Strongham, one of the girls who had 'lovingly' teased Lara at school about her awkward height and gawky frame. By now it seemed she was more bleach and make up than real person, her curvy body squeezed almost impossibly into a tight pink bodice dress, her feet teetering in skyscraper heels. "Oh my god, it is!" Katie thrust herself at Lara in a forcible, if drunken, embrace.

"Katie…" Lara smiled falsely, raising her voice over the loud bass permeating through the club. "You look… _well_."

"A girl's allowed a bit of pampering now and then…" She paused to sip at the straw that stuck out from some hideously sweet looking cocktail, eyeing Lara slowly. "You never filled out then?"

"Don't have the chance." Lara shook her head. "I'm in the army now."

"Oh yes… I heard you'd run off to go shoot at things. How… _honourable_." She gave Lara a distasteful look, her eyes finally shifting to Ghost who was stood behind Lara patiently, his arms folded and an amused smirk plastered across his face. "But tell me… who's this?"

"This is Simon. He's a… colleague."

"Soldier boy, eh?" Katie grinned, no longer paying Lara all that much attention. "You look as though you can handle yourself."

"I can fuck a bloke up no sooner than look at him, yeah." The grin remained fixed on Simon's features. "Why, you like that?"

"Definitely." Katie laughed. "Always loved a bad boy."

"Then you'd _love_ me."

"I'm sure I would." She gave him a coy smirk, edging that little bit closer before stopping herself. "You two aren't…?" She deliberately left the question hanging, her gaze switching between them both.

"No, we're just-"

"She's just using me for sex." Ghost grinned triumphantly, a loose arm moving to encircle Lara's waist, pulling her almost impossibly close. He watched Katie's face drop in shock as she teetered backwards. "Aren't you, _gorgeous_?" If she'd been sober Lara would have laughed at how he over emphasised the word mockingly.

"And you're… _happy _about that?" Katie gave them both an incredulous look.

"Hell yeah." Ghost smirked, pulling her even closer. "I kinda like it. And _her_." He shrugged weakly. "So sorry, love. But if you're looking for a quick fix tonight, I'm not your guy." He gave her an almost dismissive wave, indicating over to the far end of the bar. "I'd try over there. Those blokes look desperate enough."

In the time it took Katie to edge away from them, Lara had downed her beer, her throat feeling impossibly dry. She slammed the empty bottle on the bar behind her, attempting to pull away from Riley but his grip only became tighter, holding her to his side, their hip bones clashing. He smirked, turning towards her slowly.

"What's the rush?"

"Did you mean all that?" The words tumbled out of her mouth faster than she could stop them. "Really?"

"… Yeah." He shrugged casually as though he'd just admitted to having blue eyes. "Or most of it. Maybe not the gorgeous part." He laughed. "I mean you're _not bad_."

"Simon…"

"What? You want me to be serious now?" He shook his head. "I'm half pissed and horny as hell. Can't we discuss the part where I genuinely care about you later?"

"W-what?" Now Lara truly was unable to stop a gasp from erupting past her lips.

"_Later_…" Riley groaned pulling her around so that she was facing the bar again. "Right now we need more drinks." He indicated to the barman, lifting himself over the counter slightly to speak directly in his ear. Seconds later a row of four shots steadily appeared in front of them both. "Get those down you…" Riley nodded. "And for fuck's sake forget how much of a twat I just made of myself."

If Lara had wanted to question anything, she didn't get much more of a chance, at first humouring him and continuing to drink to at least dull all the questions in her head. By now the club was happily out of focus, the pulsing lights given more movement by the sway in her vision. The music was enveloping, hard and strong, bass lines pulsing through the floor. To Lara, it was intoxicating. She had no idea who pulled who, but soon enough they had both reached the dance floor, neither of them standing on ceremony as their bodies clashed together, grinding rhythmically to the music. The world still that little bit hazy, Lara opted to throw her arms around Riley's neck, her head resting on his shoulder whilst they both moved together.

Sober, the sight would have been a shock. Drunk, it was damn near terrifying.

At first the brown eyes just looked that little bit familiar, fixed in her direction rather than looking at the pretty blonde who was draped over their owner's lap. Lara wanted to look away, but the intensity of the stare forced her to look on, her eyes fixed to the face. The figure leant forwards out of the gloom of the club and Lara caught sight of him clearly for the first time. _No, it couldn't_-… Lara's grip on Riley tightened instinctively, practically choking him.

"_Shit_, Lara…" He let out a strangled cry.

"… Toby." Lara shook her head quickly, loosening her grip yet keeping her eyes fixed on the man. "What the fuck is he doing up here?"

"Who the fuck is Toby?"

"My ex." She hated how it was still hard for her to say it even after all the years that had passed. "My only_ relevant_ ex."

"Were you serious?"

"Very."

"And is he with someone?" For whatever reason Riley seemed to be sizing Toby up, even though his back was still firmly turned to him.

"Yeah. Some fucking bimbo by the looks of it."

"We could leave?" Riley suggested, his breath tickling against her ear as he spoke to her directly. "Not like this is the only club for miles…"

"Too late. He's seen me now. I don't want to look like I'm running away."

"In that case there's only one thing to do." The lieutenant was already grabbing her arm and pulling her off the dance floor.

"Riley…_no!_"

"Don't be such a fucking coward." He gave her a stern look. "If you can stare down a bloody RPG then you're strong enough to do this. Right?"

They were too close to Toby by now for her to argue without being overheard. As they stood in front of him, Lara grasped wildly at any passing thought in her mind, her drunken brain desperate to try and form a witty, almost cutting comment that would somehow diffuse the situation. But it was impossible, her mouth dropping open to speak whilst her head still stumbled over the words. Fortunately, Toby spoke first, effectively putting her out of her misery.

"Didn't think it was you at first." He gave her a quick nod, almost flinching as the blonde sat beside him tried to take his hand possessively. "Aren't you supposed to be out there saving the world or something?"

"I'm on leave…" She replied bluntly, suddenly remembering Ghost at her side and indicating to him quickly. "… _We're_ on leave."

"Another soldier?" Toby raised an almost disapproving eyebrow, quickly looking the lieutenant up and down. "Isn't that technically fraternisation?"

"It isn't your business… _technically_." Ghost's voice made his irritation plain, but Toby seemed to ignore it.

"Your little display made it everyone's business… in here anyway." Toby smirked, leaning back in his chair casually. "Or maybe you're just not big on privacy?"

"_Honey…_" The blonde beside him finally spoke, her hands curling around his bicep. "Don't cause a scene." She straightened up, holding out her hand to Lara quickly. "I'm Bridget. Toby's-"

"She's an associate of mine from the office." Toby interjected, Bridget's face instantly hurt as he pulled his arm away from her. His eyes slipped back to Ghost. "And you are?"

"Simon."

"Man of few words, eh?" He laughed quickly, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket, his eyes flicking back to Lara. "Not usually your type, Lara."

"Because my 'type' has worked so well for me in the past?"

"Touché." He stood up, indicating towards the club exit. "I need a smoke. Come keep me company if you like. We can catch up." He took a deliberate step past Ghost. "Assuming that Samson here is able to manage a couple of minutes without you?"

She was well aware that she should have said no and walked off in the opposite direction, but Lara found herself agreeing almost immediately, her body instinctively taking a step after Toby. Instantly Ghost tried to move into her way but she gently pushed him aside, tilting her head to speak directly in his ear.

"Just get me a drink. I won't be long."

"Too fucking right you won't." Riley shook his head, reaching up and holding her head to his mouth. "If you're not back in five minutes then I'm coming out. Understood?" Lara merely rolled her eyes in response.

Outside the change in temperature felt monumental, cold air assaulting the dampened skin of her bare back. Swallowing down a shiver, Lara followed Toby to a free expanse of wall outside the club, both of them leaning against it, Lara determined to try and put as much distance between them as possible whilst Toby lit his cigarette. For lack of anything better to do she folded her arms across her chest, at least hoping that the gesture made her look that little bit angrier.

"You look good." Toby nodded bluntly, turning to look at her. "I heard you made the Paras, they must be keeping you in shape."

"Stalking me now?" She gave him a bordering on outraged look.

"Our mothers still talk." He rolled his eyes, taking in a deep drag of smoke. "They were close, remember?"

"Well they obviously don't talk _a lot_." Lara scoffed. "I left the Paras six months ago."

"You fucking left? I thought that regiment was your life?"

"I got handed a transfer. Promotion."

"_Promotion?_ Where to?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it." She shook her head, briefly enjoying the power that her mysterious job seemed to give her. "Sorry."

"What sort of James Bond bollocks is this?" Toby laughed indignantly. "Don't tell me, I bet you're fucking guard dog in there has a license to kill too, right?"

"Simon's my friend." The words felt strange leaving her mouth but there was no denying the truth behind them as Lara finally made full eye contact with Toby. "You know nothing about him."

"I know enough to know that you two are _more_ than friends. Don't tell me, I left you so broken that you started sleeping with every soldier you could get your hands on. Is that it?"

"Oh _fuck off_, Toby!" She wanted to yell but Lara found the strength to restrain it to a bitter hiss. "Don't be so fucking arrogant."

"Arrogant? No. But _come on_…" He gave her a patronising smile. "I'm the bad guy in all this, right? The twat who cheated? It's only natural for you to drag my name through the mud."

"I prefer not to mention you at all." She rolled her eyes. "Makes life one hell of a lot simpler."

"_Ahhhh_ I forgot…" He finished his cigarette, grinning as he breathed out a final cloud of smoke. "That was always your game wasn't it? The whole 'it's not there if we don't mention it' mentality. What a load of _bull_." He turned to her, his head resting against the wall. "You forget that you were the one who ended us, not me."

"You ended it the second you fucked someone else. Is that her? Bridget?"

"Bridget's just a kid." Toby rolled his eyes. "We're not together."

"Did you tell her that?"

"Did you tell Simon?" Toby laughed. "Because right now this is one hell of a game of the pot calling the kettle black."

"I fucking told you… we're _friends_…."

"Sure, friends who fuck." Moving so that he was stood in front of her, Toby leant against the wall, his left hand beside her head. "Admit it; you're involved in something just as soulless as I am."

"_Piss off_."

"Hitting home, am I?" He grinned, moving his right hand so that now both his hands were either side of her head. "We're too alike, you and me. Always were. Maybe its time to admit that we've both been screwing around because we haven't been able to find something as good as what we used to have."

"Good?" Lara scoffed. "So good you felt the need to fuck some office girl?"

"Maybe I should have tried to be more understanding, but hell, you could have been more open with me." He shrugged. "Mistakes on both sides, right?"

"And so what now? Kiss, make up and go back to how it all was?"

"Not in so many words." Toby shook his head slowly. "We could take it slow. A dinner first maybe? Some place where it's just you and me and we can forget all this sarcastic armour."

"You really think it'd be that simple?"

"I think it's a _start_." He leant forward, tilting his head slightly so he could fully look her in the eye. "Come on, Lara. At least admit that you're considering this as much as I am."

"No." She shook her head. "You're a chapter of my life that's closed. I can't just go back and pretend that's nothing's changed."

"Nothing has! It's been what, _two years_?"

"Exactly…" Lara moved off the wall, pushing his chest backwards with her hands. "Two years. And believe me, _I've_ fucking changed."

Toby had opened his mouth to speak, but Lara never got the chance to hear what he had to say as in an instant he disappeared from her vision, his body blurring to the right. Staggering, it took a moment for Lara to adjust, her head swinging to the right just in time to see Toby pressed hard against the wall beside her, a pair of familiar hands gripping the shirt at his neck tightly. Although it was Toby who he had in a choke hold, Ghost's eyes were fixed on Lara.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Simon!" Lara found herself yelling, pushing at his shoulder. "Get the hell off of him!"

"Not until I know what he was fucking playing at…" The lieutenant grunted, his gaze switching back to Toby as he pushed him harder against the wall. "I don't know what you said to her, but she doesn't need you anymore, you fucking got that, _mate_?"

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Toby managed to splutter.

"Or what?" Ghost laughed softly. "You honestly think that you scare me?"

"Lara! For fuck's sake, get your psycho of a boyfriend the hell off me!"

Anywhere else in the city and Toby would have probably ended up with a broken nose to match his now bruised pride, but as it was, two club security men came to his timely rescue, both of them wrenching Ghost's body away, albeit it with great difficulty. They managed to haul him into the street, Riley pulling himself away from them with relative ease, his fists clenched. Terrified, Lara threw herself into the fray, determined to stop Riley from forgetting where he was and spending the night in a police cell for assault. She at least succeeded in calming him down and he pushed off from her, stalking off down the street in the opposite direction to the club. As Lara twirled round to run after him she spotted Toby watching her, his face an odd combination of angry and concerned before he retreated back into the club himself.

Riley seemed to have nothing to say to her and similarly Lara didn't know what to say herself, an unhealthy, tension filled silence soon developing between them. They kept walking, Lara sub consciously leading the way, the streets deserted and dim around them. Ordinarily, Lara would never have dared to walk home through the city by herself, but that night she didn't care. After all, she doubted whoever they might come across would be nothing to be scared of in comparison to Riley.

"What's in here?" Riley's sudden speech caused her to jump in her skin and Lara spun around to face him in an instant. Beside them was a large expanse of open land, cordoned off by tall, pointed metal railings. Riley had stopped several paces behind her, both hands now resting against the railings inquisitively.

"It's just a park." She shrugged. "Nothing exciting." She paused, watching him for a moment longer, almost expecting him to give her an apology or an explanation for his behaviour. He gave her no such thing. "Look… Riley-"

"Don't tell me, you think I'm a psycho too, right?" He rolled his eyes, avoiding her gaze. "I saw the way you looked at me."

"I was shocked. You came out of nowhere."

"I said five minutes, didn't I?"

"I was hardly timing us."

"So I saw…" Riley shook his head, resting back against the railings. He eyed her wearily. "So what did he say to you that made you do a complete 180?"

"What?"

"Oh come on… you two were really fucking close." He rolled his eyes. "Two minutes later and I'd have been walking into you two doing a lot more."

"Oh give it a rest, Simon." Lara hissed. "I had no intention of fucking _kissing_ him."

"Sure you didn't." He held his hands into the air in mock submission. "I should never have come here. Forget I did. Go running back to the club and get your shit sorted out, it's not like I give a fuck."

Five months ago, Lara would have believed him. Hell, she could have said something very similar herself. But now, with the way Riley's eyes continued to look at her, she knew that he didn't mean it. Because for the first time, Lara was actually seeing Riley _wounded_, hurt plain in his eyes. She didn't know why he had picked now to show that he cared, but she was hardly complaining either.

Maybe it was just to prove Toby wrong, but as Lara stepped in front of Simon, she was determined to not make this yet another problem that she ran away from.

"…You were jealous, weren't you?" She raised an eyebrow, moving her hands forward so that they rested on Riley's shoulders. He tried to shrug her off but she persisted, her thumbs digging into his collar bones slightly. "Well?"

"I didn't like how he spoke to you. So fucking high and mighty."

"And that's all?" A small smile quirked through her features. "You ran in all ready to defend my honour just because he demeaned me a bit?" She laughed. "Come on, Simon. If you did that all the time Greg would be dead by now. Or at least crippled." Leaving her right hand on his shoulder, Lara moved her left one up to the side of his face, forcing him to look at her. "I think we both know it was not _what_ he said, but _who_ he was."

"And so what if it was?" Riley rolled his eyes, although he made no attempt to move. "What do you want me to say? That I couldn't stand seeing him anywhere near you and would have gladly beaten him to a pulp to deny him the fucking privilege?"

"Maybe just the first bit." She smiled, leaning in a little closer. "So you do really care?"

"More than I fucking should." Riley shook his head, still trying to avoid her gaze. "Don't ask me how you fucking managed it, but somewhere along the line you got under my skin. Now I just don't know what the fuck to do about it."

"Telling me helps." Lara grinned, leaning in closer so that their faces were inches apart. "Because I'm not the ice queen you think I am."

"Really?"

"Really." She laughed softly, rubbing her thumb across his lips. "You think I'd have invited you if I didn't care?" Leaning in she pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, the gentlest gesture they'd ever shared. Slowly, as she pulled away she was sure to keep a hold of his gaze, her voice low when she spoke again. "Because for someone who seems to always have a bad word to say about me, I did actually miss you."

She'd wanted to be the one to kiss him again but Riley was ahead of her, pushing his face closer and pressing their lips together firmly. His hands were almost instantly as her waist, one of them snaking round and stroking at the small of her back, the skin instantly turning to gooseflesh. The cold prompted Lara to open her mouth and she deepened the kiss, being sure to suck on Riley's bottom lip and tongue at every opportunity. The lieutenant groaned into her mouth, pressing closer, his hips nudging against her own. Lara smiled knowingly in an instant, snaking down her right hand and palming the front of his jeans carefully. Simon's body instantly tensed and he let out a gentle moan, leaning back against the railing when her lips dropped down to his neck. For a moment he let them stay like that, until a decisive hand curled around Lara's wrist, stilling her hand instantly.

"… _Stop it_." She was sure that it had meant to be more authoritative but as it was his words simply came out as a breathless groan.

"Why?" Lara attempted to move her hand again and the grip around her wrist tightened.

"I said stop…" He paused, opening his eyes and giving her a serious look. "Don't get me all wound up when I know we can't finish this tonight."

"And who says?"

"You did… earlier. About the same time as you mentioned those fucking creaking floorboards." He attempted to push her away slightly. "You're such a bloody cock tease."

"It's not teasing if you get something out of it in the end." Lara smirked, nodding over his shoulder to the park behind them. "What do you say?"

"In there?"

"Why not? It's empty enough." She grinned, already stepping past him and beginning to climb the railings. "Are you coming?"

"It's fucking closed."

"And?" Lara laughed, carefully manoeuvring herself over the pointed tops of the bars and dropping down to the other side. She gave him an expectant look, her hands resting mockingly on her hips. "Don't tell me the great Simon Riley is scared of a little trespassing?"

As soon as he'd cleared the railings, Lara had grabbed his wrist, pulling him knowingly after her. The park might have looked different in the dark but it was still the place where she had spent half of her childhood and as a result she knew the layout like the back of her hand. Breaking into a run, Lara continued to pull Simon after her, towards the copse that lay in the centre of the parkland, the trees close enough together to make for suitable cover. At full speed the distance took neither of them that long to cover even with the addition of their stumbling and they were soon enveloped by dark shadows far removed from the city's streetlights.

He might not have been able to see her all that clearly, but that hadn't stopped Riley pushing her against the first available tree, his hands suddenly roaming everywhere beneath her top. Fumbling fingers managed to untie the halter top at the neck and it flopped down, Riley pausing to shed his own t shirt onto the floor. By now their mouths were meeting with far less eloquence than before, the kisses messy and lust filled, lips meshing together clumsily whilst their hands were distracted elsewhere. Riley's belt buckle had proved the most problematic, Lara short on concentration as the lieutenant continued to kiss and suck at the skin of her shoulders. With a relieved hiss she had managed to unfasten it and with very little decorum she had yanked down his jeans and boxers.

"_Shit…_" Fumbling in the gloom, Lara managed to slip a condom out of the pocket of his skirt, her fingers struggling to open the package in the limited space between their bodies. Momentarily transfixed, Riley paused and gave her a questioning look through the gloom.

"You fucking _planned_ this?"

"_Expected_ rather than planned." She grinned, kissing him again as she managed to roll it on. As she broke away she pulled his hips a little closer to hers suggestively. "Though personally I had you down as more of a club toilets man myself…"

Riley chose to give his answer physically rather than vocally. In seconds, Lara was lifted into the air, rough bark biting into her back as she curled her legs around his waist, their hips snapping together almost automatically. When he started to move his hips, Lara's back was on fire, her skin raw and reddened. Leaning forwards slightly to avoid the discomfort she managed to unbalance them both, Riley falling backwards with her still firmly on top of him. However, it was a momentary setback and content to be in a position of power Lara decided to dictate her own, tormenting pace until all that left Riley's mouth was an extended groan of expletives.

Eventually she let him flip them over and take control, their pace quickening and Lara's hands firmly held to the ground either side of her head. In the gloom it was hard to be sure, but as Lara continued to watch she noticed that Riley never once closed his eyes, his gaze permanently fixed on hers with his every movement. The realisation itself threw Lara over the edge and her entire body tensed, her spine arching and bringing them that little bit closer together. Riley followed and soon enough he was collapsing on top of her chest, his head lost somewhere amongst her hair and the crook of her neck and shoulder.

"_Fuck_…" Riley managed to gasp, his body boneless still as he finally rolled off of her. In an uncharacteristically gentle move he kissed her shoulder as he did so, his right arm remaining draped across her body, the hand rubbing in large, languid circles.

"Yeah…" Lara smirked in return, sub consciously placing her hand on top of his. "Worth it though, right?"

"Completely." Simon paused for a second, as though he was weighing up his next sentence very carefully. Eventually he chose to speak again, propping his head up on his left hand as he did so. "Bit like you."

"Was that a compliment?"

"It was supposed to be." Riley laughed, looking as close to sheepish as he ever probably could. "I mean it's taken me a while to notice it… appreciate it even. And I swear half of the time you still push me further and harder than anyone else is able to but still… you're really… something, aren't you Lara?"

"Something good?"

"Something good."

"Then I guess that works for me." Lara smirked, sitting up slowly and pressing a lazy kiss to his lips. "But if you don't mind I'd rather continue this little love in some place where I won't freeze to death in the process."

The next morning amongst raging hangovers they hadn't spoken about the half drunken events of the night before, hell even when the headaches had dulled and they were sprawled out arguing over what to watch on TV they made no attempt to voice anything else. But in reality that didn't matter. After all, they'd said everything they needed to, at least for now. There was no need to complicate anything further.

One thing had been blatantly obvious however. Riley had only intended to stay for a couple of days. In reality he stayed for the rest of their leave. It made very little difference whether it was because Lara gave him back the life he had lost or because she had reminded him that he still deserved one in the first place, only that for three weeks at least, Simon Riley was back in the land of the living. 

* * *

><p><strong>For Lara and Ghost's grinding club song, check out Pacifica (Chasing Shadows remix) by Spor. I think grinding to that tune should be on everyone's bucket list. :P <strong>

**-x-Sass-x-**


	2. Taste In Men: OzonexToad, OzonexOC

_**Warning!**__ I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)_

_**Also!**__ This fic contains slash pairings. You have been warned._

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course. _

**Note from Sassy: **Rested, revived and possessing even the slightest of tans (plus a good few mosquito bites) I have returned bearing gifts of well… smut. For everyone who is still watching CITS, chapter 20 is coming since I wrote half of it on the beach, I just have the joyous task of typing it up, but I'll get it to you guys as soon as possible. In the mean time, I'm throwing you a bit of a curveball. Basically, a random prompt a few weeks ago grew into this, which is basically an exploration of Ozone as a character dedicated to the marvellous **MisMot** and posted due to her Ozone enthusiasm. Yes, its slash, and yes my Toad/Archer relationship from Spotter/It's Beginning To Get To Me applies. It's also set before Bones joins the 141. For those of you who aren't feeling the slash vibes in this one though, never fear, the next drabble will be Soap/Bones. :) And as usual, a hugely big thank you to the guys and dolls who reviewed the first drabble, you guys totally rock!

**DawnDove:** Thank you! It's so great to hear that you're enjoying CITS and this spin off. :) I'm glad you liked the almost awkward flirting between Katie and Ghost. I loved being able to write him a little bit more relaxed than in my main plot.

**Sweet Candy Rain:** I had a suspicion that you might like the Ghost/Bones drabble. But thank you! :) If you fancy giving writing a shot, then I would always encourage you to go with your own OCs but if you want to practice with Lara, then that's cool. :)

**panpanpeppermint:** Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :D

**That Person:** Oh yeah, that was my purpose for writing the drabble really, to give Bones/Ghost a softer edge. But I'm so glad you liked it. As I'm a dubstep DJ I'm afraid grinding is the only dancing style that I know ;) And thank you for the compliment about my characterisations too! I will admit that I do make slips up in my grammar in the prose, but hopefully they aren't too irritating. In dialogue they're usually deliberate lol. And don't apologise, that was an awesome review! :)

**GhostxStealth:** As always sweetie, thank you so so much! You are most kind indeed, I have to say. I'm so glad you liked the softer side of Ghost too. :D I hope you continue to like the updates too.

**UrgentOrange: **I'm so pleased that I managed to corrupt you with Ghost's face model. ;) As for the alcohol… well I kinda based that on my last night out. *cough* As always, you totally make me blush with your reviews. You have nothing to be envious about! On a side note, I am now back and fully functioning for betaing duty if needed. Also… thanks for the article you sent me! :D

* * *

><p>At fourteen he'd accidentally walked in on his older sister and her best friend getting changed. The seemingly mundane event had unwittingly become a deciding moment in his life. After all, he'd gone to school and bragged to his friends until he was blue in the face, but there was no denying that in reality women in their bras did very little for Nicholas LaVoie.<p>

But men? Well, they were a totally different story.

"All I'm saying, bro, is that if you have to bring some chick back to your room can't you even _try_ and keep it down?" Royce sighed, taking a drink from his beer almost for emphasis. The other men gathered round the table laughed and jeered, Meat the loudest of them all.

"Remind you of what you're missing, eh, gramps?"

"_Fuck you._" Royce rolled his eyes. "Least I don't have to _pay_ for it."

"And I do?"

"To be fair, Greg…" Toad interjected, kicking back so that his boots were resting up on the table, his head cocked to one side. "Some of the girls you bring back have 'hooker' written all over them."

"Like you can talk." Archer murmured, although he was doing his best impression of not paying any attention, idly flicking through a newspaper on the table in front of him. "I'm surprised the local girls don't have a nick name for you."

"What can I say?" Toad grinned, leaning back and resting both his hands behind his head. "I'm blessed."

"You think you're god's gift…" Meat muttered.

"Correction; I _know_ I am." The younger sniper paused to sip at his own drink. "There's a _big_ difference."

"Cocky wanker." Archer grunted.

"Arguing?" Chris gave his a partner a look that could have quite easily made a lesser man blush. It appeared to go unnoticed by the rest of the men aside from Ozone whose eyes were suddenly fixed onto the younger sniper. "Either way, jealousy doesn't suit you."

"Fucking pretty boys." Royce stroked a hand across his chin, a single eyebrow raised. "Why don't you just grow some balls?"

"Now that's just not fair…" Toad laughed, his face filled with mock offence. He smirked, giving Royce a smug look. "I mean… really? _Pretty?_ I thought I was more… _rugged._"

"Oh please…" Meat shook his head.

"Can't you see it?" The younger sniper laughed again, suddenly turning to his left and meeting Ozone's gaze in a manner that seemed very deliberate. He grinned before turning his face into a distinct, almost mocking pout. "What do you think, Nick?"

"That you're a total dick?" Ozone sighed, tearing his gaze away from him as quickly as possible.

"Ouch…" Toad shrugged the comment off happily, turning back to the rest of the group. "Come on guys, where's the love?"

"You love yourself enough without our help." Archer replied bluntly. "If that head of yours gets any bigger we won't be able to get you out of the rec room."

"And we _don't_ want that… believe me." Royce smiled. "Otherwise all we'd hear is that electronic shit you call music…"

Anyone who knew Toad knew that he wouldn't take that comment lying down and instantly the sniper leapt to the defence of his music, his voice raised and giving the others a great deal of amusement. Soon the table was dragged into another petty argument and by default another opportunity for Ozone to keep his mouth shut and just listen to what was going on around him. It wasn't so much that he was scared of conflict, more that he found it far more amusing to sit back and watch the fireworks from a distance. After all, he'd had always preferred observing his surroundings over actively participating in them, and with the rest of the men seemingly so keen to air their dirty laundry and bitch; he was never short of something to keep him occupied. As a result, Ozone saw, heard and most importantly _noticed_ everything and yet remained at arm's length of any drama that might arise. In short, it was just how he liked it.

Unfortunately there had been a complication. A tall, ruggedly handsome, smart mouthed complication. _Toad._

The man was everything that Nick shouldn't have found attractive. He was arrogant, loud mouthed and opinionated, his very nature brash and spontaneous. He was also blatantly unattainable. Normally, that wasn't an issue. Ozone was no naïve teenager and he'd had plenty of attractions towards straight men that they were practically second nature. But with Toad it was more complicated than that. After all, he was a straight man who was so obviously fucking his fellow sniper, even if the rest of the base were painfully oblivious to it. The fact that he didn't even give Ozone a second glance was just like adding insult to injury.

It wasn't love. Hell, it wasn't even a crush. But there was no denying that Ozone would fuck Toad into the nearest hard surface if he ever truly got the chance. Even if it was just to shut him up.

* * *

><p>When it came to negotiating 141 parties, Ozone was a bonafide expert. He was by no means tee total, but he at least knew his limits, something that the other men seemed to forget all too easily.<p>

It was pretty early on into the night, the hour hand barely past eleven and as a result the men hadn't reached their full height of raucous behaviour. Most of them were gathered around the main table playing insane drinking games, a rumble of laughter erupting whenever it was someone's turn to drink. The men who saw themselves as above such things, mainly Ghost, Mactavish and Archer were holed up in the kitchen, surrounded by empty beer bottles and cigarette smoke. However, even though they'd tried to remove themselves from the ongoing drinking games they would still laugh and jeer at whoever was unfortunate enough to have to drink vodka out of his shoe.

"_Shit,_ mate." Chemo winced as Ozone successfully potted another ball, his face splitting into a wide grin of satisfaction. "I thought we told you to go easy on us?"

"And I told you I take pool very seriously." Nick smirked, handing his pool cue to Roach and taking a step backwards. They'd resorted to playing in teams, with he and Roach playing against the unlikely pairing of Chemo and Toad, a combination that seemed to produce more playful bickering than it did actual playing. Either way it was safe to say that they were dominating the game somewhat, with Toad and Chemo only managing to pot a disappointing two balls so far.

"Fuck!" Almost on cue, Roach's shot was a near miss, the target ball ricocheting off the table cushions. He groaned, straightening up and giving Ozone an apologetic look. "Sorry, dude."

"Not so smug now, are you?" Toad laughed enthusiastically, leaning over the table with a wide smirk stretched across his features. He surveyed the scene, chuckling again when he noticed that Roach's shot had set him up with an angle that simply _couldn't _miss.

In fairness, Ozone really shouldn't have been looking. But Toad had a habit of wearing his shirts unbuttoned almost halfway down his chest, his dog tags always proudly visible. When he leant forwards over the table however, the shirt suddenly gaped open, displaying an almost full expanse of toned pectorals and washboard abs. It was so blatantly in front of him that Nick couldn't stop himself from drinking the sight in, a swallow forcing its way past his suddenly impossibly dry throat.

"Nice one, mate." His shot successful, Toad received a hearty pat to the back from Chemo, the medic's thick Geordie accent intensified the more alcohol he consumed. Toad however, didn't straighten up. Instead, the sniper's eyes looked up just in time to meet with Ozone's, one of his eyebrows raising curiously. For a split second he smirked back, before running his tongue suggestively over his lips, a sight which forced Ozone to look away when his mind instantly imagined them around his cock.

"Try not to fuck it up this time, eh, Jimmy?" The sniper seemed to be paying very little attention as he handed the pool cue to his team mate, leaving Ozone feeling as though he'd imagined that suggestive look only seconds before. That was of course until Toad settled himself back against the wall opposite, beer bottle in hand and his eyes firmly back on Ozone's. There wasn't any real malice in the brown eyes that continued to watch him, but there was a knowing intensity that certainly put him on edge for all the right reasons. More out of embarrassment and a lack of anything else to do, Ozone decided to break the contact, throwing back his head and gulping down the rest of the beer from his bottle.

"I'm out…" Ozone cleared his throat, waving his empty bottle at Roach to accentuate the fact.

"Want us to wait while you get another?"

"No… figure I've had my fill of pool for the night." Nick gave him a weak smile, already stepping away from them. "Carry on, you don't need me."

"You sure?" Roach didn't look particularly convinced.

"Totally."

Technically it was running away, but Nick saw it as more of a tactical retreat, a move that stopped him from grabbing Toad by the scruff of his neck and forcing him over the pool table in an uncharacteristic display of lust. Or at least, that was the fantasy. In reality, Ozone knew it was far more likely that he'd just get an embarrassing bulge in his trousers and have to shuffle off before anyone else noticed.

There was a small table by the music system where they stashed all the alcohol that no one really gave a shit about, meaning that you could dip in and out and take what you liked. More often than not they added Royce's speciality beer to the table and waited to see how long it would take him to notice, but that night the man himself seemed far more preoccupied with attempting to get Dee, one of their nurses to dance to Scatman, however unsuccessfully. Ozone smiled, content to watch the reluctant redhead bob her head to the music in a move that didn't seem to appease Royce when he attempted to grab her wrists and shake them around as encouragement. Nick laughed. He couldn't say that he knew the nurse all that well, but she'd stitched him up enough times for him to know that her soft smile and lazy American drawl were almost instantly endearing.

"That was almost a clean getaway." _Toad._ The voice made Ozone inwardly curse his own stupidity. After all, if Chris was half as perceptive as Ozone suspected then it was only natural for him to have guessed the real reason for his rapid departure. Behind him he heard the sniper laugh, before he reached round him almost deliberately for a fresh beer of his own. "From where I was standing, _you _started it."

"Don't you have a game to go finish?" Ozone decided that feigned ignorance was the best course of action as he turned around to face the other man.

"Wasn't fair to be playing two on one." He shrugged innocently. "Thought I'd do the honourable thing and back out."

"You? _Honourable_?" Ozone laughed softly over the top of his beer. "That's a first."

"I can be a lot of things." Toad smirked, running his tongue across his teeth. "Some of them better than others."

"And you're so modest too…"

"Hey, if you've got it, flaunt it. By the looks of it you didn't seem to mind." The sniper gave him a knowing, self satisfied look that quite nearly sent an embarrassing flush across Ozone's features. Slowly, he leant in, almost as if he was attempting to speak over the music. "But don't tell me… I wasn't supposed to see you watching me earlier, right?"

"I wasn't watching you."

"Sure you weren't." Chris scoffed. "And what about all those other times?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Come on, bro. It's not like you're the first guy to want me."

"You're so full of shit sometimes, Chris." Ozone rolled his eyes, his face incredulous. "Not everyone wants to get into your pants, you know?"

"Just you then?"

"_Fuck you_."

"If you like." Toad grinned. "But you might wanna take it someplace else. Too many spectators in here… even for me."

"You're unbelievable…"

"Maybe." The sniper shrugged, leaning in that little bit closer, alcohol potent on his breath. "But you wanna go back and forth like this forever? Be my guest. But I'm not blind, bro. I _know_ you wanna fuck me. Or be fucked by me. Whichever one you're into." He pulled back a little, the smile on his face showing just how much he was enjoying the impact his words had on Ozone. "So maybe we should just cut the bullshit now, right?"

"Chris-"

"What? I'm offering you head and you're making it sound like I've got you at gunpoint."

"This is insane…" He might have been spouting every excuse he could think of but that didn't mean that Nick wasn't tempted. "You're not even…-"

"Even what? _Gay?"_ Toad laughed. "Does it even matter?"

"It's pretty fucking important…" Ozone sighed. He hesitated, suddenly realising just how close Toad actually was and taking a step back automatically. When he spoke again his voice was filled with forced authority. "Look… just leave it, ok, Chris? I'm not interested."

"Hell you're not."

"You can be as thick skulled as you want…" Shrugging, Ozone took another step backwards, this time moving towards the rec room door. He watched as Toad's face fell into a confused laugh, before turning on his heel and heading out of the rec room as fast as he could without arousing too much suspicion.

He'd had enough alcohol to leave his brain sluggish as Nick stood outside in the relatively cool corridor, his back to the rec room door. Closing his eyes, Nick suddenly became aware that thinking had suddenly become ten times more difficult, a good deal of his blood flow diverting its way away from his brain and down into his crotch. He hissed, swiping a hand through his hair and kicking himself that he'd chosen that night to restrain both himself and his desires.

Normally, two hands suddenly pushing him backwards against a wall would have triggered his fight mechanism and he'd have happily broken their owner's arms, but this time, with his reflexes dulled by alcohol, Nick didn't realise until it was too late. In a burst of movement he was spun around, before his back suddenly came into contact with the wall, the plaster cold through his thin grey shirt. His hands pinned to his sides, Ozone was held firmly in place, wide eyed with Toad barely inches away from his body, his face so close that he could feel his breath against his jaw. Outraged, Ozone struggled, attempting to shake off the hands that held his arms, but the sniper had enough leverage to restrain him, his grin growing with every grunt of frustration that left Nick's mouth. This only served to irritate him further and Ozone moved again, this time attempting to push his body away from the wall, an action that was met with Toad's body suddenly becoming flush against his and the sniper placing a well aimed bite and suck to his neck in order to pacify him. Even under these circumstances, there really was no denying the indecent moan that practically leapt from Ozone's mouth.

What came next felt deeply unfair, as Toad started to lavish a rough kind of attention to the exposed skin of his neck, his mouth finding all the pressure points that proved without fail to always be his undoing. He certainly knew what he was doing and it showed as his mouth moved upwards, teasing his jaw before finally meeting with his lips, the sniper almost instantly sucking Nick's bottom lip into his mouth. By this point Ozone had lost his inner battle completely and was kissing back in earnest, his tongue pushing into Toad's in a move that was anything but submissive. It earned him a soft groan from the sniper, who proceeded to bite softly on his bottom lip, a firm hand snaking down between them and cupping Ozone through his trousers in a manner that could only make him gasp.

"Always the quiet ones." Toad's words might have been muffled against his skin, but their meaning was nowhere near lost.

"Shut the fuck up…" Ozone replied with a rough groan, his now freed hands tangling into the sniper's hair and tugging at it roughly, a sure fire way of showing that he was not to be dominated. Toad simply grinned against his skin, fighting back with another rough bite to the side of his neck that was both painful and pleasurable in equal measure.

He'd been so momentarily caught up in the moment that it hadn't initially occurred to Ozone that they were still outside a busy rec room and his eyes suddenly snapped open, his gaze shooting back to the door. Relief flooded through him as he realised that the door was only just ajar, until he looked closer, his eyes widening in realisation. He tightened his grip on Toad's hair, attempting to pull him off of him whilst he spoke out in a hurried hiss.

"_Shit…" _

"What the fuck, Nick?" Toad gave him a confused look, straightening up so that he could look him in the eye although he made no attempt to move away from him.

"Archer…" Ozone spoke out slowly, his eyes still fixed over Toad's shoulder and on the door. Through the gap just one face was fully visible, the older sniper watching them both with an intense look. It didn't look particularly angry, but it was certainly one that Ozone didn't recognise. He let go of Toad's head as if he was red hot, his arms hanging limply at his sides. "He's seen us."

"And?" The younger sniper raised a curious eyebrow.

"And you're _fucking_ him." He watched at Toad's features flickered in mild surprise. "Come on, Chris. It's obvious."

"That has nothing to do with you." Toad rolled his eyes, the sudden change in tone catching Ozone off guard. He looked over his shoulder quickly before turning back to him. "Do you want to come back to my room?"

"You… want to carry on?"

"Why wouldn't I?" The sniper scoffed. "Ignore the old man; he's probably getting off on it."

"You can't be serious…" Nick pushed him backwards abruptly. "I'm not someone for you to experiment on, bro."

"Experiment?" Toad gave him an incredulous laugh. "I think I just proved that I'm a bit past the _experimenting_ stage, don't you think?"

"You know what I mean. I'm not a toy for you two to indulge in some kind of voyeuristic fantasy."

"Oh _please_… Do you really think I plan that far ahead?" He shook his head indignantly. "I thought you knew me, Nick."

"I _do_ know you… that's the point." Ozone sighed. "And I told you… I'm not interested."

"Sure, it really _felt_ like you weren't…" The sniper spat.

"I didn't mean in you. I meant in getting involved in whatever crap you've got going on."

"You're kidding, right?" Toad scoffed. "There's _nothing_ going on. Does Archer really look like a guy who wants anything more than fucking casual?" There was a slight bitter sadness in his voice that Ozone almost missed.

"That's not my problem." The Canadian shook his head, edging past Toad who surprisingly made no move to stop him. "I like you, Chris. You're one of my best friends around here. But I'm not going to pretend to be you and Archer's guest star." He shrugged softly, backing his way down the corridor towards the relative safety of his room. "I'm sorry, but I'm just not wired that way."

Turning his back on Toad left him with the worst feeling in the world. Not because of the raging hard on that still pressed against his jeans, but because of the bitter, twisted feeling that suddenly began to bubble in the pit of his stomach. Desperately, Ozone tried to push it away, but it felt inescapable. After all, there was no getting away from the fact that in the space of half an hour he'd broken every single one of his rules.

As it turned out, there was a worse feeling than being simply ignored; being _used._

* * *

><p>When it came to coping strategies, Nick had never really been one to drown his sorrows in times of crisis. He'd done it before of course and for the shortest of whiles he'd been as convinced as the rest of the men that it worked. However the loss of control came with a heavy price and Ozone had long decided that the nauseating, migraine filled morning that followed drinking wasn't worth the brief mindlessness it brought.<p>

Except that night. Because Ozone truly doubted that he could actually feel worse in the morning than he did then as he poured another measure of rum down his throat.

It was a rare night of leave, one that should have seen him out celebrating in the nearby town with the rest of the 'younger breed' of 141 men. They were all in a bar just a little ways down the road, their favourite for pounding bass lines and easily impressed girls, but that night Ozone had avoided it with good reason, choosing a more secluded, local bar that he knew the others would never bother with. All in all it was a depressing kind of place, but it had to be better than watching Toad shove his tongue down someone else's throat and be reminded of just how weak he had been a week before.

Looking up, Ozone's eyes met with the bartender's; faded green irises surrounded by weathered eyelids like creased brown paper. There was judgement there, but Nick fought to ignore it, instead picking up his glass between his thumb and forefinger and waggling it at the man suggestively.

"Hit me again…" He pushed a ten dollar bill across the table with his left hand before adding. "Actually… make it a double."

"Easy there, soldier." A disembodied voice spoke out from behind him and Ozone jumped in his skin, turning to his left as the figure behind the voice moved to sit on the bar stool beside him. His vision blurred from the action, eyes honing on what appeared to be a kind smile before the man spoke again, this time to the bartender. "I'll have the same… " He nodded to him, nudging Ozone's money out of the way in the process. "These are on me."

"And who exactly _are_ you?" If he hadn't been intoxicated then Ozone would have instantly flinched at how bitter he'd sounded.

"Adam Carter. But I think the phrase you were really looking for there was 'thank you'." Adam laughed, sliding one of the drinks towards Ozone. He picked his up, sipping at it experimentally. "Rum? An interesting choice. Had you down as a scotch man personally."

"Umm… _thanks._" His mind well and truly bamboozled by this point Ozone accepted the drink, taking a much larger sip of it than he intended. He spluttered, leaning forward against the bar momentarily whilst the man beside him chuckled.

"I take that back. Looks as if you're not a hard liquor man after all."

"I'm not a drinking man…" Ozone grimaced, forcing back another sip of bitter liquid.

"_Ahhh_… So in that case its woman trouble, right?" The other man laughed softly.

"Not likely."

"Man trouble, then?" The question suddenly felt so intrusive and Ozone snapped his head to the left, ready to ask Adam just what exactly made him think that he could be so personal so soon. But there was something in the warm blue eyes he met that stopped him in his tracks, his mouth hanging slightly open. His face must have said it all because Adam smiled, looking straight ahead to bar and taking another sip of his own drink. "I see. That I _can_ relate to."

"Problems of your own?" Ozone felt obligated to ask.

"If we didn't have problems then bars like this wouldn't exist." He shrugged. "But I didn't buy you a drink just so I could have a shoulder to cry on, if that's what you're wondering."

"Then why did you?"

"You looked as though you could do with the company. Besides, sit at a table alone in this place for long enough and you begin to lose the will to live." Adam flashed him an amused smirk. "Hell, maybe I just felt like being spontaneous."

"Then I apologise in advance." Nick shook his head. "I'm not the best company tonight."

"Army life getting you down, eh?"

"What?" Ozone raised an eyebrow. "How did you-"

"Please, everyone in town knows about the army base that no one's allowed near." Adam chuckled.

"Doesn't mean I'm a soldier."

"No, but let's face it. Your tall, built, keep to yourself. Got a bit of a tortured glint in your eye. So I figure you're either an army boy or a really _lost_ tourist." He smirked, watching as Ozone's features cracked into a brief grin. "_Fuck_… I made you smile. I was beginning to think that wasn't possible."

"And what about you then?" Nick paused, watching him carefully. "What's your story?"

"Nothing so exciting." Adam shrugged. "I work here, believe it or not."

"You're kidding…"

"I wish." He laughed, shaking his head. "No, really. Five nights out of seven you find me the other side of that counter." He took another sip of his drink. "Fortunately for you I don't start my shift for another half hour."

"So you're telling me if I hang around for a bit longer I'll get free drinks?"

"I wouldn't get too excited." Adam smirked. "Stay and keep me sane with normal conversation and maybe we can work something out." He held out his glass towards Ozone, clinking it against the drink he held in his hand. "Deal?"

"Deal."

In theory, Ozone had only meant to stay for another hour or so. In practice, he ended up staying for the entirety of Adam's shift, talking to him across the bar with conversation that was as far from the military as physically possible. The man was a far cry from the men he usually talked to, not sharing the 'live for the moment' philosophy that the 141 men often adopted. He had plans, aspirations beyond surviving and drinking, a free spirit that wanted to cut loose from his small town origins and go out and see the world. In a lot of ways, he was the man Nick would have been if he'd never joined the military.

He'd helped Adam close up the bar that night, before having a scrap of paper pressed into his hand firmly with a number scrawled across it in blue ink and instructions to call whenever he wanted to 'pretend to be normal'. For the next two weeks, Nick found himself calling Adam as often as he was able, an act with quickly became routine without him really noticing it. But when Ozone was called away on an operation overseas, the following weeks proved to be the most frustrating time of his life.

* * *

><p>It was dark, wintery, heavy rain pelting down onto the streets and bouncing off the tarmac with a drumming intensity. Street lights glowed amber against the night sky, surrounded by a haze of mist like air. Ozone shuddered, pulling up his collar to shelter his neck from the cold, his shoulders hunching to aid the action. He increased his pace, his footfalls muffled by the sound of the rain. He didn't bother looking around, didn't need to, his mind focused on just where he was headed as soon as he'd landed back at base. Before long, the now all too familiar bar appeared within his vision, it's bright lights leaking out from the bar doors and windows and making it look like the most inviting place in the world. Somehow a smile managed to cross his sodden features. After almost a month of waiting he was suddenly so close.<p>

He'd timed it perfectly. As he stepped inside, his eyes instantly flicked to bar where Adam was just finishing up his shift, handing over the bar keys to the old man replacing him. Ozone drew closer, watching with satisfaction as Adam did a double take, his eyes not recognising him at first. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring, his face more concerned than anything else.

"What the hell happened?" He'd forgotten. Four days prior they'd been clearing out a suspect building and Ozone had found himself blind sighted, a rifle butt appearing out of nowhere and hitting him in the face. His attacker had been shot without hesitation before he could do anything more but Ozone had still escaped with a broken nose and a hideous black eye.

"It's nothing." Nick shrugged quickly, glancing around the bar. "I'm fine."

"Oh yeah, you look it." Adam rolled his eyes, although his face split into a relieved smile. He nodded to the other bartender next to him, retrieving his things from behind the bar. "My shift's just finished. Do you wanna get out of here?"

"And go where?"

"My place? My apartment's just upstairs, we can talk." He laughed nervously at the surprise in Ozone's features. "Yeah, I know what you're thinking… I can't escape this fucking place. But the rent's cheap and I don't have to commute so..." He shrugged, indicating for Ozone to follow him behind the bar. "Come on, I'll even make you coffee."

Five minutes later and Ozone found himself up a flight of stairs and within the confines of a dimly lit, basic one bed roomed apartment. It was dank, just like the bar beneath it, traces of damp visible around the single paned window at the far end of the living area. The walls were a grim, dirtied shade of magnolia, totally devoid of anything personal aside from a few posters of bands that Nick had never heard of.

He shut the door behind him and locked it as per Adam's instructions, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it up beside the door. His t shirt was sodden from his walk and it stuck to his skin, sending a cold shudder up his spine as he ventured further into the apartment.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me." Adam said softly, heading into the kitchen and flicking on his coffee machine. He appeared by the door way again, giving Nick another concerned glance. "You look freezing. Do you want another shirt?"

"I'm fine." Ozone reiterated, heading after him and into the kitchen. "And I'm sorry… for disappearing."

"Work, right?" Adam replied quickly, although Ozone was unable to read his emotions as he kept his back firmly to him.

"Yeah. I don't get much warning. They just ship us out." He bit his lip, leaning against the counter and feeling genuinely awful. Somehow when he'd pictured their reunion his brain had managed to omit the awkward, vague excuses that he was going to have to make.

"I forget that you get the shit kicked out of you for a living." Reaching down, Adam retrieved the milk from his fridge, adding it to the coffees before he finally turned round, handing one of them to Ozone. The look on his face was something Nick hadn't expected, his features possessing a saddened, worried quality as he leant back against the kitchen counter. "I'd ask what really happened, but I guess you can't tell me. Maybe I don't even want to know."

"I made a mistake." Ozone shrugged, sipping his coffee. "It was my own fault." He paused, watching Adam's features closely, guilt once again raging through him.

"And how often do you make mistakes?"

"On occasion." Nick smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Usually I'm not this lucky."

"_Shit…_" Adam laughed, although it fell heavy on them both. "You're insane, you know that right?"

"Yeah… pretty much."

"Fucking _typical_." Adam sighed, running his free hand through the short blonde curls of his hair. He bit his lip, obviously hesitating. The resulting silence lasted a lifetime. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Sure." He smiled but in reality Ozone was dreading what was coming next.

"I'm not going to lie, Nick. I don't think I can handle this."

"What?" Ozone's heart thudded in his chest. "Look, if this is about me just disappearing then-"

"I don't think I've been clear." Adam shook his head, placing his coffee down on the counter behind him. He turned to Ozone, his face split into a weak smile. "I know what it is you do, I always have. I can handle you disappearing for weeks on end with zero contact and then even when you do get back I can deal with the fact that you can't tell me shit about what you've done or seen." He paused, watching him intently as he nervously moistened his lips. "But all this worrying about you when I don't have any reason to…" He shrugged. "It's _insane_."

"I don't understand."

"Yes you do." Adam sighed. "I think about you all the time. You're the only person in this fucking town who isn't mundane and predictable." He took a step closer, his voice dropping in intensity. "I've been waiting for you to walk into that bar for weeks and believe me, I'd have waited longer. But I have to know that what I'm waiting for actually _exists._" He bit his lip. "Because if you want me to be your civilian best friend, then that's cool. But if you want me to be more than that… well, then I'm going to need you to tell me, Nick."

The way he saw it, Ozone had two choices. He could be selfless, lie and tell Adam that he was on his own. Sure it was cruel, but in his heart of hearts, Nick knew that it was the kindest thing to do. Alternatively, he could be selfish and do the one thing he'd been wanting to do for the past month, resigning himself to the fact that Adam knew exactly what he was getting himself into.

Nick wasn't well known for his 'fuck it' moments, but as he moved forwards and crushed his lips against Adam's, this was certainly one of his better ones.

The mouth he met might have been surprised, but it reciprocated almost instantly, unfamiliar lips moving against his own. Ozone's hands crept upwards, messing into Adam's hair and gripping it tightly, desperately, an attempt to show that he felt the same even if he couldn't so eloquently put it into words. He knew he should say something, _anything_ and so he tried to break the kiss before it went any further, his hands still entangled in Adam's hair. Slowly, Nick rested his forehead against the other man's, his mouth breaking into a breathless smile when he finally spoke.

"Don't go soft on me like that again, you hear?" He smirked, watching as Adam replied with a quick laugh before pushing closer again, this time drawing him into a much more serious kiss.

He hadn't realised how much he needed it until Adam's hands found their way to his chest, raking across the damp fabric of his t shirt in all the right places. The kiss deepened and Ozone's hands migrated down to firmly cup his partner's arse, earning him a soft hiss from Adam. Soon, Nick found himself being nudged backwards, their movements clumsy as they attempted to move out of the kitchen and into the bedroom. Suddenly anticipation was all there was and they both started to tear at their clothing as they moved, the fabric forming a trail between the kitchen and the bedroom, both of them stumbling as they attempted to push down their jeans.

Falling backwards onto a double bed, Ozone was content to lie there and let Adam do as he pleased with his torso, his talented mouth moving across the heated skin, biting and sucking as it went. Large hands swept across the definition of his stomach and down to the elastic of his boxers, teasing them down whilst his lips worked their way down his pelvic bones. The touch sent shivers of pleasure up his spine, further intensified when Adam finally moved further down and took him into his mouth.

It all felt so good and in a whirl of motion Nick was back to taking control, pulling Adam up so that he could kiss him again, the gesture nothing short of feverish this time. He flipped them over, showering the other man's chest with the same attention that had been showed to him whilst Adam pushed a condom and lube into his hands. He'd planned on drawing out the foreplay for as along as possible, but with Adam groaning beneath him Ozone was unable to stop himself from pushing forwards and showing him just how much he'd missed him too.

His body limp and spent, Nick collapsed down onto the bed beside Adam, his right arm and leg still draped loosely across his body. His hand found the smooth patch of damp skin at his outer thigh and absently his fingers stroked at it, the movements slow and languid. For a long time neither of them spoke, the only sounds emanating out into the room being soft pants as they attempted to recapture their breath.

"Please don't tell me that was a one time fuck." Adam smirked, angling his head down to look at Ozone. "Because it was way too _fast…_ I was planning on making you wait…"

"And why would you do that?"

"Payback's a bitch." He grinned. "Or maybe I just wanted to see you weakened for a change."

"Oh yeah?" Nick laughed, tilting his head into Adam's shoulder. "Maybe you'll get your chance… _someday_."

"Sooner rather than later, I hope." Adam smirked, rolling so that he was on top; his hands firmly planted either side of Ozone's head. "What time do I lose you to that god awful base of yours?"

"I have training at five…"

"Good… because you're officially AWOL until then…" Adam pressed a lazy kiss to his neck. "If you disappear again, then fine. But right now, I figure it's the army's turn to wait…"

As Ozone pulled him down playfully to lie on top of him, he couldn't have agreed more…

* * *

><p><strong>I should probably mention that the OC <strong>_**Dee**_** mentioned in this fic is MisMot's creation and not mine. Thanks to her for letting me borrow her! :) And thanks to everyone for reading this far, as I've said you guys keeping me writing. :D **

**-x-Sass-x- **


	3. The Promise: SoapxBones

_**Warning!**__ I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course. _

**Note from Sassy: **Ok, so I promised myself that I wouldn't post another drabble until I'd got CITS 20 up, but its taking a bit more editing and polishing than I anticipated and as I had these drabble all finished and ready to go… well I thought I might as well. My next post will definitely be CITS 20 though, I promise. :) But anyways, this is less of a curveball than the drabble before, back in the familiar territories of Soap/Bones. As always, an gigantic thank you to **MisMot** for yet another amusing prompt to write, and to everyone who is following both this fic and CITS. I never take the kind support you guys give me for granted, so thank you so so much. :)

Oh and as for a bit of scene setting, this drabble could be seen to take place sometime after Lara's birthday in CITS. :)

**MisMot: **Well, I'm still honoured that Ozone/Adam are up there as one of your favourites, especially with all of the zingers that I hadn't realised I'd written for Ozone. :P As for Royce's wife… she's shit, can't even remember her own name. :P But seriously, as ever thank you so ridiculously much sweetie! Even if you don't miss a trick with me and my comma abuse. And of course, you know that there's going to be a lot more Toad/Archer to come since it's me writing.

**CurlyPup: **Thank you for the review. :) As for me and writing slash stories, I do still write slash stories, I've just not been posting them recently. I do plan to write more Never Say Die and The Calm Before The Storm, I'm just trying to get the inspiration to get the chapters finished. I hope to post more slash for you soon! :)

**xGhostxStealth:** Haha it's Ozone/Adam, but I totally know who you mean. And thank you! I'm so honoured that you liked this! :) I really wanted to have a go at writing something civilian/soldier, so I'm glad that didn't strike you as too boring. I just hope you enjoy this drabble just as much. :D 

* * *

><p>The door firmly locked, his combat attire well and truly hidden away, Soap had settled himself down for a quiet evening. On a night when in reality he should have been celebrating Mactavish had decided to reward himself with the rarest commodity known to the men of the 141. <em>Time alone.<em>

His sister would probably just say that it was a sign of his age, but as he settled back against his pillows, the well leafed book sagging open in his hands, Soap made the semi conscious decision that he wasn't going to move for the rest of the evening.

The knock at his door barely five minutes after he was seated however begged to differ.

Grunting in disapproval John stood slowly, the action causing his sweat pants to dislodge and hang low off his hips. He stretched out his back, momentarily considering how bad a thing it would be for him to simply ignore the noise and return to his book. But the knocking was persistent and reluctantly Soap made his way across to his door, opening it sharply.

"_Oh_…" McCoy's startled face greeted him as the door flew open and she instinctively took a step back, clearly looking a little uncomfortable. She bit her lip, as if waiting for him to yell, her mouth slowly opening when she realised that he was watching her expectantly. "Sorry, if this is a bad time…"

"What did you want, Lara?" He sighed, desperately attempting to soften the gruff tones of his voice. Silently he watched as Lara handed a white envelope to him with one hand, the other still firmly clutching a battered looking rucksack to her side. Raising an eyebrow he took it from her suspiciously. "What's this?"

"A card." She rolled her eyes. "Customary for a birthday, right?"

"How did you-" He broke off, tearing into the envelope and being unable to stop a small smile jerk across his features as he eyed the plain, yet thoughtful card. He looked up, meeting her gaze again. "Did Riley tell you? I bloody told him not to-"

"Oh _come on_, John. I'm your medic… I _know_ things." She laughed softly. "Or did you forget that I'm in possession of _all_ your medical records?"

"A frightening thought." He glanced down at the card again, waving it in her direction. "But I still appreciate it."

"I'm not done yet." She smirked, looking past him into his room. "Can I come in?"

"For what?"

"To _celebrate._ Just be thankful that I didn't invite the entire team." Pausing she moved the bag in her hands gently so that a clinking sound erupted into the air around them. "One drink for old time's sake? What do you say?"

Against all of his better judgement Soap merely stood aside and let her in without any further word.

"I figured that a vintage malt like this one was too good to drink alone." Lara burbled, positioning herself so that she was sitting cross legged in the middle of Soap's bed, the rucksack sitting in between her legs. In a single motion she pulled out the familiar bottle of whisky he'd given her only weeks before although now it clearly was missing several good measures of alcohol. Lara herself was being uncharacteristically forthcoming and if Mactavish didn't know any better he'd have guessed that she'd already had a drink herself.

Stepping forwards silently he took the bottle from her, their fingers grazing over the action. Whilst Soap found himself clearing his throat awkwardly, Lara remained unperturbed, rummaging in the bag once more until she pulled out two plastic cups and a bag of ice. "If we're drinking, we might as well do it properly, right?" She grinned, automatically loading the cups with a few ice cubes each.

Soap was left to pour out each measure of whisky, although in reality his eyesight was further from his task than it should have been. They both lifted their cups to their lips, Lara the first to take a long sip of alcohol, Soap instead watching her over the top of his own drink. Despite his professional demeanour, his mind was often a completely different story when it came to Lara and tonight his thoughts were filled with images of a highly unprofessional nature. She looked softer, slightly more feminine with her hair hanging down at her shoulders, her face no longer as cold as it seemed to be when her hair was scraped back into that tight, efficient ponytail. Her oversized shirt was missing too, the grey vest top she wore underneath clinging to her toned frame more than he was used to. Soap smiled, his gaze slipping sub consciously to the medic's bare shoulders. They were hardly muscular but there was a curvature there that gave away just how much physical training their work required. On any other woman it wouldn't have been particularly attractive, but with Lara it was different. As were most things when they came down to the medic.

They didn't really speak much during the first drink, the only communication between them being the occasional contented smile. He'd expected it to have been awkward and yet it wasn't, the warming liquid flowing down his throat only serving to improve the mood even further. In the end it was Soap, not Lara who reached to refill their cups, earning him a confused look from McCoy in the process.

"I thought we agreed to just the one drink?"

"It's my birthday and _now_ you're rationing my alcohol?" Soap rolled his eyes, continuing to pour out the drinks. "What sort of celebration is this?"

"One where we're drinking _my_ birthday present." She quickly nudged his arm before taking her refreshed drink from him. "You better make it up to me, you know."

"My Da is already sending some more over. I'll reimburse you."

"You better." She smirked, taking another sip. Shuffling backwards she pressed her back against the wall beside his bed, stretching her long legs out so that only her feet dangled over the edge of the mattress. "So, care to tell me why you insist I should celebrate my birthday and yet I find you hiding in here for yours?" She grinned. "A little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"You've seen what happens when we have a 141 birthday. I prefer the rest of the lads not to know."

"That was my plan. But at least I told _someone._" She gave him a disapproving look.

"Yeah, well…" Soap shook his head, an idle hand running across his scalp. "Old habits die hard, you know?"

"Then you're in luck. You can celebrate with me and no one has to get hand cuffed to a railing in their boxers by the end of the night." She paused, smirking as she took another sip of her drink. "Well… unless you _really _manage to piss me off."

"Maybe you're right." Relaxing his shoulders, Soap leant back against the wall himself, his arm just grazing against hers at it rested at his side. He made no attempt to move away from the contact. "Things are quiet for once… I guess we should enjoy it while it lasts."

"You mean the 141 isn't always this laid back?" Lara gave him an amused grin. "_Bugger_."

"Something's coming." He was sure to take a large drink of alcohol before continuing. "I don't know what, but I've got one hell of a bad feeling in my stomach about all of this. Last time I had it I found myself in the middle of a six day war."

"So if anyone's qualified to get us through it, its you, right?" Lara smiled kindly, nudging her arm closer to his. "You'll keep us alive out there."

"I thought that was your job?"

"Hey, I just patch them up." She laughed, downing the remnants of her whisky. "The rest is up to you."

"You do a lot more than that."

"And you really need to learn to lighten up." The medic grinned, tilting her head towards Soap's drink in encouragement. "We're supposed to be celebrating, not talking shop."

"What else are we supposed to talk about?"

"Something else. The military shouldn't be what defines us."

"Speak for yourself."

"_Fuck you…"_ She hissed softly, her elbow jabbing into his side at the precise moment that Soap chose to drink, causing him to splutter as the liquid sloshed against the back of his throat without warning. "Tell me something about yourself… your family. _Anything. _Just so long as the number 141 has nothing to do with it."

"What's there to say? We were nothing exciting."

"So?" Lara sighed. "We see exciting everyday. Right now I long for something mundane." She leant forwards for the whisky bottle, refilling both their cups in turn, the metallic rattle of the bottle cap the only sound for a moment. "Tell me about your parents."

"They aren't what you'd expect." Soap laughed softly, leaning his head back against the hard wall. "My da's a tailor, mum's a seamstress. They've got one of those old fashioned shops where you can get a suit fitted and hand made for a small fortune." He smiled, his thoughts momentarily lost in remembrance. "It's a family business even though me and Sara show no intention of carrying it on."

"Sara? Your sister, right?"

"Yeah, that's her. She's busy living the high life in Edinburgh right now. The plan was for her to take over the management of the shop when our parents retired but last I heard she'd gotten too attached to all the cocktail bars and high rise apartments to go back to Elgin." He paused, biting his lip thoughtfully. "My da's never been all that happy about either of our careers and believe me, he's not afraid to show it either."

"My dad scared me shitless sometimes." Lara shook her head softly. "He wasn't really comfortable with showing emotion, or at least not to me. He was ex military. Kind of a tradition in my family. My granddad and my uncle both served too."

"Is that why you joined up?"

"Partly." She shrugged. "My brother was never going to become a soldier and since I didn't really know what to do after med school…" She took another drink, her eyes pensive. "I guess I just felt I had something to prove."

"I'm sure he's very proud of you."

"I hope he would be." Lara sighed, turning her head to meet his gaze fully. "He died. A couple of months before I graduated from Sandhurst."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not your fault. I think my mum expected me to pack it all in and come home when he was gone." She laughed darkly. "Unfortunately for her I inherited my dad's stubborn streak too."

"I can't see you doing anything else…" Soap nodded. "If that helps at all."

"I could say the same about you. Then again I don't think you could get away with that mohawk anywhere else."

"I got it when I joined the SAS, believe it or not." John smirked. "Figured the haircut and a couple of tattoos would make me look the part."

"Tattoos?"

"Yeah." He shifted slightly in his seat. "They're pretty old now."

"How many do you have?"

"Just the two."

"Show me…" There was no denying the smirk suddenly visible on Lara's features. She eyed him carefully, shaking her head when he chosen not to reply. "_Fine_, if you want to play it like that." Thrusting her drink into his hand, Lara sat up and turned round on the bed, kneeling so that her back was to him. She angled her lower back towards him, grabbing the hem of her vest top and lifting it unceremoniously to reveal an intricate, long string of black roses tattooed horizontally along the bottom of her spine, some of the leaves disappearing below the top of her trousers.

"How long have you had that?" John found himself muttering, thankful that both his hands were full so that he didn't have to stop himself from tracing his hand across her skin.

"I got it about two days after my 18th birthday." She laughed quickly. "So, God… ten years? I'm _old._" Pulling her top back into place she turned around, sitting back beside him. "It was my boyfriend's idea at the time. Although it pissed my parents off to no end too. I quite liked that part."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"Maybe you're just finally getting to know me." Lara smirked, angling her body so that she could look straight at him. She gave him an expectant nod, quirking her right eyebrow in the process. "Go on then, your turn."

"I never asked to see yours…"

"And?" She rolled her eyes. "Just stop being such a baby and _show me_."

Soap gave in, handing the two drinks back to her and leaning forwards. He rolled up the left leg of his sweat pants, angling his calf towards her so that she could see the long, loopy writing that spanned a small section of the muscle.

"Latin?" She gave him a confused look. "Not exactly what I expected."

"_Nemo Me Impune Lacessit. _It means no one provokes me without impunity." He laughed, quickly rolling down his trouser leg again and reclaiming his drink. "It was the motto of my old regiment. Me and some of the lads had it done when we joined up. I think most of us were pissed at the time."

"Least I was sober for mine." Lara shook her head. "And the other one?"

"It isn't as easy to show you."

"_Really?_" Lara gave him an amused smirk. "It's not one of those intimate tattoos, is it?"

"_Please._" Soap rolled his eyes. "It's on my shoulder."

"So show me. It's not like I haven't seen you topless before."

He wasn't particularly embarrassed but there was something that Soap didn't quite like about Lara outwardly asking him to take off his t shirt. He was hardly insecure but then again John was well aware that his slightly sturdier, thicker frame was different to what Lara was used to in Riley, the dark hair on his chest a world away from the practically bare chest the lieutenant proudly possessed. When it finally struck his haze filled brain, Soap suddenly realised that he was actively seeking Lara's approval and he pushed the feeling away, reluctantly downing the remainder of his whisky and dropping the cup down onto the mattress beside him. He leant forwards without any further thought, yanking his t shirt over his head and angling his right shoulder blade towards Lara. "There… Happy now?"

"What does it mean?" By this point Lara had finished her own drink, leaning forwards so that she could take a closer look at the swirling, shaded tribal pattern across his skin.

"I don't know…" He shook his head slowly. "I just thought it looked good at the time."

"It still does." At first he thought he'd imagined it, a hand suddenly present against his skin. Every muscle in Soap's body tensed, his breathing becoming that little bit shallower as her fingers traced the patterns of the tattoo, finger tips slowly working their way down to his side and across a long, curved scar. "What happened?"

"Shrapnel." Soap swallowed hard, that bridge in the Altay Mountains with Zakhaev the last thing he wanted in his thoughts right then. He was at a loss at what to do, his fogged thoughts screaming for her to stop yet his body desperate to encourage her. In the end the two reactions cancelled themselves out and he remained still.

"You were lucky." She said thoughtfully behind him, her hands examining the wealth of other, smaller scars strewn across his back. The tension of his muscles didn't go unnoticed and Lara stilled her movements abruptly when they didn't lessen. "Do you want me to stop?"

"_No_…" Soap shook his head, his mouth suddenly dry. "But we shouldn't-"

"I didn't ask what you thought _should_ happen." Lara's voice was low as she leant in and pressed a kiss to his tattoo. "I asked what you _wanted_ to happen."

"Right now what I want… is probably a very bad idea."

"_Good._" Lara smirked, her hands moving down to his waist, encouraging him to turn back around to face her. "For a minute there I thought it was just me thinking about this."

He'd never really thought about her as having a dominant personality but as Soap turned around to face her Lara was instantly moving into his lap, her thighs either side of his legs. She pushed him backwards so that his back was pressed against the cold wall, her hands immediately beginning to explore the new expanse of chest on offer to her. For a minute that was all there was until Soap's hands began to creep up to her hips, an action that seemed to snap her out of her haze, sending her closing the distance between them, her mouth suddenly fixed to all the right places on his neck and collar bone.

He wanted to speak but as a knowing mouth found the delicate skin just below his left ear and sucked, Soap was unable to stop a throaty groan from escaping his lips. His grip on her hips tightened and almost in response Lara ground her hips against his, the action sending an intense shockwave up the length of his spine. By now there was no denying just how much he wanted her and Soap tried to adjust the angle of his hips to hide the fact, his mind suddenly realising just how _long_ he had gone without this. Lara however was too perceptive and rather than allowing the action to go unnoticed she trailed her hand down the length of his torso, her palm suddenly resting at his crotch, a soft, teasing friction suddenly driving him insane.

To say that this was going too slow was an understatement, Soap's eager hands reaching upwards and cupping her face, bringing it to eye level in front of him. Lara stilled in his grasp, hazel eyes suddenly focused on his, her mouth agape ever so slightly. It was almost like an open invitation and Soap closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers in a firm, bordering on dominating action. For a split second he felt Lara hesitate before her own mouth began moving against his, her fuller, smaller lips meeting his every movement with equal pressure. Whether he should have or not, Soap slowly deepened the kiss, relishing the feeling as Lara's lips parted for him, her head tilting even further to the right. Her hands came up to loop around his bare neck, their bodies suddenly closer from the action, tormenting hips still grinding softly against him. Soap groaned shamelessly as Lara's tongue lapped over his own, his hands knotting in the bottom of her vest top, wrenching the fabric upwards to expose her abdomen. By now he was too far gone and professionalism was out of the window, his only thoughts focused on the feeling of skin against skin and the opportunity to finally show the damn medic just exactly _how much_ he thought of her.

And then, in a painful, confusing instant, Lara's lips tore from his.

"No…" She shook her head, leaning backwards away from him when he tried to lean in and kiss her again. Her face was hardly angry but her features were crumpled into an almost saddened expression. "We can't."

"What?" His voice an angered hiss, Soap was forced to let go of her as she wriggled from his grasp, carefully standing up from his bed with only a slight stagger. He edged forward on the bed, his face the very image of perplexed. "I thought you wanted this?"

"I did. I _still _do." McCoy ran an anxious hand through her hair. "But not like this."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Aren't you getting a feeling of déjà vu here?" She scoffed. "We've been drinking, kissing, so bloody lost in it that we've barely remembered to breathe." She threw her hands up into the air. "So how do I know that you're not going to stop in five minutes time and tell me it's another mistake? Another _drunken_ mistake?"

"Did that really feel like I wanted to stop?" He rolled his eyes at her incredulously.

"It didn't last time, but you still did."

"It's different this time."

"How so?" She laughed. "I thought I could handle it. A drunken one night stand just to get it out of both of our systems. But I can't. It feels _wrong_."

"It doesn't have to be as sordid as that." Soap shook his head, standing up so that he could face her. "Maybe you were right about me all along."

"So you've had a change of heart?" Lara smirked darkly, her tone clearly unconvinced. "Just like that?"

"You've been telling me for weeks to stand up for what I want and now that I am you don't even believe me?" Soap sighed, exasperated. He took a deep breath, attempting to reign in his temper before he spoke again. "What more do you want from me, Lara?"

"I want proof." She took a step back from him, her teeth grazing against her lip thoughtfully. "I need to know that you're not going to make me feel like that again."

"_Lara_-"

"It's a fair trade, don't you think? Believe me; I _want_ to think that you're actually willing to give this a shot but…" She shrugged bluntly. "Last time all this fucking _hurt_. If you did it again now it would be ten times worse."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"Just… _wait_. Ok? Be patient. We've both waited this long, a few days more isn't going to kill us. When you've had more time to think and you're sober, we'll talk again." She took a few more steps backwards, all ready to make a swift exit. "I'm sorry, but this is just more complicated than I thought it would be."

As he watched her back away, Soap's body was in complete conflict. His instincts told him to stop her, to go after her, to explain to her that he'd simply run out of reasons why they shouldn't just share something together however small. But logic told him to wait, to let her leave and give her the space that she so obviously needed. As Lara hovered by his door, Soap soon realised that he needed to make a decision. And _fast_.

In the end, his instincts won. Logic was one thing, but if Soap knew anything it was that Lara was more than able to handle rash decisions made on gut feeling alone. After all, she'd been sleeping with Riley. Outside of operations the man's life was just one big rash decision.

Three good strides were all it took for him to be back at her side, his hand reaching out as gently as he could to grip her shoulder. Lara froze, confused, her face searching his for any sign of his next move. He deliberately gave her none, his other hand gripping her other shoulder and pushing her softly against the door. A smile crept across his features. There was no denying the feeling of satisfaction at the temporary upper hand he now had over her.

"John-" When she'd finally begun to argue he'd seized his chance, leaning forwards and capturing her lips in another kiss. It wasn't as passion fuelled and dominating as the one they'd shared moments before but it was still firm, almost possessive in its nature, a gesture determined to give as much to her as possible in the shortest space of time. Reluctantly, Soap began to slow his movements, wrenching himself from the kiss with every ounce of restraint that he held in his body. He kept their faces close, his right hand reaching to her side and slowly twisting the door handle so that it swung ajar behind her.

"You're right. Again." He nodded softly. "And I can wait. _Just. _But believe me; I'm still going to want you in the morning."

"I just need to be sure."

"Yeah, I get that too." He smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. Ok?"

"You better."

"I will." He watched her step out of the room, lowering his voice so that they wouldn't be overhead. "And thanks."

"It was just a card." Lara shook her head. "Nothing special."

"Who said I was talking about the card?" He smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "I've got a lot to thank you for, Lara. Someday, I'll make it up to you. I promise."

John Mactavish had a lot of faults, but as he watched Lara make her way down the corridor he was confident that breaking promises certainly wasn't one of them. 

* * *

><p><strong>Ok, so my prompt was <strong>_**'Lara leaving Soap with blue balls'**_**, hence the abrupt finish. But hey, a bit of teasing never hurt anyone. Oh and regarding the SAS comment and Soap's hair, well, I kinda realise that a mohawk wouldn't be the best hairstyle for a guy on covert operations to have, but hey, canon. :P Either way, if you've read this far then another gigantic thank you from me! I hope you enjoyed it. :) **

**-x-Sass-x- **


	4. L'ennui: ToadxBones

_**Warning!**__ I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course. _

**Note from Sassy: **Well since a total computer crash has temporarily stalled the next chapter of CITS, I thought that it was about time to get posting another drabble. I've had a few requests for something that revolves around Lara and Toad, and so here it is, complete with Toad/Archer undertones (because I'm obsessed :P). As always, gigantic thanks and hugs go to the amazing **MisMot** who is always a fountain of inspiration.

On my usual scene setting note, this drabble is set just after the events of chapter nine of CITS with Lara injured after her disastrous operation in Afghanistan. :)

**MisMot:** Don't you even dare think about stopping giving me ideas! That would be terrible. Although I agree with you on the subject of Soap and his tattoos ;) As for my character dynamics, well as always you are way too kind there. I'm certainly very glad that they aren't boring. Gah, you just know I adore you haha. :P

**That Person:** Pfft, growing up is overrated if you ask me. :P But thank you so much for your review! I'm glad that you liked all the characterisations :D As for whether or not these drabbles link up, I don't really plan on it. I might write some drabbles which do link up within this, but really this fic is more just a collection of random prompts and ideas I get given that I can't write into my main story realistically. :)

**SevereGamingAddict: **Welcome back! :) And thank you so much for this review. I'm really glad that you enjoyed the SoapxLara too. As for ToadxArcher, I'm currently working on another fic for them in their own right, as well as a Toad/Bones/Archer fic. Hopefully that should satisfy your Toarcher cravings. :D

**Jolineloveszombie:** Thank you! Your review was totally amazing, so really, thank you so much for all the lovely compliments :) I'm so glad you enjoyed it all, even with le Blue Balls Lara being a total tease. ;) I do have a vengeance fic where Soap gets his own back… I may post it at some point if I'm brave enough. :P

**panpanpeppermint:** Aw, thanks, I'm glad that you liked the tease. As for Lara and the age thing, well she was joking, much like I do. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter though. :)

**SamuraiWriter:** First off I'm glad my first real SoapxLara didn't disappoint! :) I really am so totally flattered that I inspire you, truly. So thank you so much. :) Also, I'm so relieved that you mentioned that the dynamics between Soap and Lara and Lara and Ghost are different, because that's something I really try to work hard at. But seriously, thank you again! :) 

* * *

><p>Ghost had never been more wrong. There was nothing about operations that Lara got off on. They merely left her feeling bitter, spent and empty once the initial rush of adrenaline within her system had dissipated.<p>

As a result when Toad had dangled the prospect of vodka and a quiet place away from the rest of the men in front of her, Lara had taken him up on his offer in a heartbeat. Barely an hour later she'd found herself tucked away in his room, sprawled out across his bed with a half empty bottle of vodka resting on the sheets between them.

"I_ really_ need this." It was against her better judgement but right then Lara didn't give a damn if her medication and the alcohol would clash. No matter how many pain killers she pumped into her system her shoulder still hurt like a bitch, and at least being pissed would ensure that she'd no longer care, if only for a little while. She lifted the vodka glass slowly, her hands already unsteady from the previous shots, before tilting it towards him with a courteous nod. A small smile etched its way across Toad's features and she threw back her head, swallowing the bitter liquid without hesitation. "Thank you."

"You're a lot more polite than my usual drinking partner." He was already refilling her glass before she even had to ask.

"Archer?"

"That's him." The sniper instinctively laughed, taking his own glass and pouring himself a decent measure of alcohol. He grinned over the top of it at her, leaning against the wall to steady himself. "Grumpy son of a bitch."

"I can't see him saying much somehow."

"_Exactly_, he doesn't. Just kinda grunts mostly."

"The speaking kind of grunting… or the _other_ kind?" Normally she wouldn't have said a word, or would have at least rephrased the question, but alcohol had lowered her inhibitions and Lara found herself giving in to her own curiosity. She smiled, watching Toad's reaction, one eyebrow raised almost knowingly as she swilled the clear vodka around in her glass.

"Who wants to know?"

"Just me."

"Then in that case…_both_." The sniper smirked, casually swallowing his drink in one go. "Just don't spread it around. I don't like the idea of being labelled as the base queer…. Or being labelled as anything, actually."

"There's nothing wrong with being gay…"

"I know, but I'm not. _He's_ not…. Archer and me… We just have an agreement." Toad shrugged. "It's… _differen_t with him."

"So you're… together?"

"We're best friends." Toad rolled his eyes, shrugging back another hastily poured shot of vodka as he did so. Lara glanced down at her own drink, pushing away the feeling of nausea and forcing it down. "Like I said, I _hate_ labels."

"That's smart." She sighed. "Besides, nothing's static here anyway."

"You've got that right."

"Must be nice though…"

"What must be?" The look on Toad's face was nothing but quizzical, his right eyebrow quirking upwards.

"You know… having someone… _like that_."

"Someone to fuck?"

"Not necessarily!" Lara shook her head, her voice replaced by a nervous laugh. "Just someone who gives a damn, you know?"

"Don't you?"

"I_ thought_ I had. But MacTavish is too busy trying to run around after everyone that he's spread too thin…." She paused, unscrewing the vodka herself, this time drinking straight from the bottle, the burning fluid causing her to splutter.

"You've got something going on with the Captain?"

"Hell no! Nothing like that." She sighed. "Think of it more as me feeling like some pathetic little schoolgirl with a crush and him not paying even the slightest bit of notice."

"Ah." The right corner of Chris' mouth twitched up into a half hearted smile. "I can relate."

"You?" Lara scoffed. "I thought you were nothing short of a Lothario?"

"Pretty much." Toad adjusted his position on the bed casually. "Basically I'm the guy Meat _thinks_ he is. You know, since my conquests don't ask to be paid afterwards and all." He laughed. "But last I checked we were supposed to be talking about you."

"I think we exhausted that topic."

"Only the part about your _adorable_ little crush."

"_Fuck you_." Lara slapped at his arm in annoyance.

"There's already a waiting list for that." Chris teased. "But anyway, what's with all this alone bullshit? You've got Gary, right?"

"I don't know where I stand with him. Last time we spoke… well, it didn't go well." She shook her head, not quite able to meet his gaze. "It's this job… I don't know. I guess it just helps to have someone to confide in, someone who is in the same position as me." She shrugged. "Maybe it helps me justify it sometimes."

"Deep…" Toad sighed softly, resting his head back against the wall. "But I've got to be straight with you, Bones. I've had _way_ too much vodka to be able to talk like this."

"Maybe that's for the best."

"You've got that right." Suddenly Toad was moving again, leaning over Lara's legs beside him to reach into his bed side cabinet, his hands purposefully pulling out a full glass bottle of dark rum, the brown liquid sloshing around within the confines of the glass. He gave it a demonstrative shake, his mouth turning into a mischievous grin as he pulled away from her. "So how about we just get wasted instead?"

"What good will that do?"

"I find alcohol solves most problems. Or at least makes you so inebriated that you don't care anymore."

"_Really_ professional…"

"Fuck professional. If I'm downed on the next op the last thing I want on want on my mind is regret. Believe me, bleeding out is bad enough." He smirked. "Think about it… You, me and copious alcohol. What's there to refuse?"

"You know… " Lara laughed, angling her glass towards him. "Fuck it. Let's _do it."_

Two shots turned into four. Four turned into alternate swigs of vodka and rum. A heady mix of analgesic painkillers and alcohol in her bloodstream lead to an exquisite kind of mindlessness that had Lara laughing and sniggering like a teenager again. The immaturity was a far cry from the evac bird they'd all piled into barely 24 hours before and yet right then McCoy knew that it was exactly what she needed to forget about Antonov, Ghost and the constant stabbing pain deep within her shoulder. With anyone else it would have felt unnatural, but somehow Toad's entire attitude to life seemed to be contagious, steadily corrupting her into thinking that drinking and laughter were the only real remedy to the discontent in her thoughts. In reality Lara realised that all she was doing was avoiding her problems, but she was willing to ignore that fact just to keep the warm, contented feeling in the pit of her stomach alive.

"Do you ever have time for those things?" Her vision was unfocused and yet McCoy still managed to nod towards the far side of the room. She allowed her eyes to linger on the set of black DJ decks in lieu of elaborating further.

"Not as often as I like… but I wasn't going to leave them back home." He rolled his eyes. "They're way too expensive."

"They look confusing…" Her gaze swam back to Toad's expectantly.

"It's simple when you know how."

"Then show me." Lara nodded quickly, standing up and trying to control her staggering legs as much as possible.

"What?"

"Show me how it works… I'm intrigued." She made a move towards the decks, hearing Toad's soft footsteps behind her as he followed. By the time she reached the decks she was already leaning on them casually for support.

"Well… You know how to play vinyl, right?"

"No…"

"Fucking _novice_…" Toad laughed softly, the ringing of his voice in her ears telling her that he was stood directly behind her. "I'll show you." She expected him to elbow her out of the way, but he made no such move, instead turning round and grabbing a record from behind him. Clumsily, yet still respectfully he pulled the vinyl out of its case, his arms reaching around her waist to place it on the decks. Lara's body tensed, the movement causing him to be practically pressed against her back, his hands moving the arm of the stereo system into position on the outside of the record. His right hand moved quickly and took hold of her wrist, pressing her own right hand against the record arm. "See that? You have to queue it up from the outside, otherwise it's not gonna happen." The record began to spin beneath her hand and Lara smiled when a soft, beeping intro began to play, slowly building in intensity. Toad's right hand still holding her wrist, his free left one snaked around her body, twisting one of the equalizer dials on the system just in time for the heavy drop in the bass, vibrations shimmering up Lara's hand and echoing through her body. She blinked hard. This wasn't supposed to feel _so_ good…

The soft vocals suddenly started to bleed out over the music, a complete contrast with the heavy pounding of the bass line that sounded as though it was forcing itself from the speakers. Toad's left hand moved again, his forearm brushing against her as he twisted some more of the dials, the track suddenly becoming that little bit crisper around them.

She'd never really thought of herself as being someone lead by her senses, but the combination of the loud music, alcohol and Toad's close proximity made for a seriously hedonic thrill. Lara knew that she should hate herself for thinking such unprofessional thoughts, that she should run now before she fell into bed with another colleague. But she didn't move, in some ways she _couldn't_. It was wrong, a mistake, but that did nothing to quieten the loneliness that was currently raging through her mind. She was alone, and at last the feeling was beginning to catch up with her.

If that RPG had been any closer, she'd have been dead. Gone, blown away, another medic to be replaced, just like Chemo before her. The thought had given her a painful dose of reality. And like Toad said, what was the point in regrets?

"You're very close…" She might have accepted that she wanted him, but Lara was in no mind to make the first move.

"Yeah… I am." Toad shrugged softly against her. "I kinda thought this was what you wanted."

"Who said it wasn't?"

"I could have gotten the wrong idea." His words might have been asking for confirmation, but Chris' voice was hardly insecure. That was the problem with Toad; the fact that he wasn't only attractive, but that he was well aware of it too.

"Believe me… you're right." Regardless, McCoy leant back against him, her head dropping back onto his right shoulder so that her bleary eyes were just able to see him in her peripheral vision. "But what about Archer?"

"What about him?" Toad laughed gently, tilting his head so that he could nuzzle into the limited exposed skin of her neck, his lips grazing across her ear and the hypersensitive area below it. "We're not _married_, Bones."

"Won't he care?"

"Do we know the same Archer?" The sniper chuckled against her skin. "He doesn't give a fuck what I do so long as I let him win at poker and I'm around when he wants some." He smirked, breathing against the damp patches of her neck. "He's not a problem."

"You're sure?"

"What? Are you trying to think up excuses why we shouldn't or something?"

"No!"

"Then why are you stalling?" He grinned against her neck, dragging his teeth across the skin lightly whilst his right hand snaked up to begin peeling back her shirt. "You do _want_ this, right?"

"I…" Words weren't forming in her thoughts and Lara's hand moved up quickly, catching his wrist as he began to push her shirt off her shoulder, revealing the tatty grey vest top underneath. "What if someone walks in?"

"They won't…" As if to prove a point, he leant forwards, pushing her with him as his left hand fumbled for the volume controls. With a swift twist of his fingers the volume increased, the bass reverberating through Lara's chest which was now trapped between the decks and Toad himself. Behind her, she just heard him laugh, his body pressing against her as he kissed along the back of her neck, each pressure against her skin teasing and calculated. "And now they won't hear us either." His hands were already beginning to tug up the fabric of her vest top, the cold plastic of the decks pressing firmly against her skin. Lara struggled to lift her arms and help him, but her injured shoulder grunted abruptly with pain, sending a loud groan from her body.

"_Shit_…You ok?…"

"I can't lift my arms…" She muttered apologetically into the decks before twisting round awkwardly so that she was facing him, her back now pressed against the controls. It was the first time she'd seen him since they'd started their "encounter" and his normally warm, brown eyes were now dark and glazed over with lust. "Sorry…"

"Does it hurt?" Toad was glancing thoughtfully at her chest.

"Like _fuck_."

"And how much do you like that vest?"

"What?... I… Chris!" She was interrupted by two strong fists knotting themselves in the fabric above her sternum, wrenching at the fabric and tearing the fragile cotton, effectively answering the question for her. The tear soon grew down to her navel and a firm tug pulled the garment completely in two, Toad giving her a self satisfied smile. She opened her mouth to protest further but he quickly silenced her, leaning down and pressing a row of kisses up her abdomen. "I'll buy you another one."

As he began kissing her torso again, Lara thought better of arguing, instead closing her eyes and relinquishing what little control she had left. By now there was no denying how much either of them wanted this, and Toad's controlled, painfully slow kisses and sucks against her skin were her undoing. She held back as long as possible but soon it just wasn't enough, her hands reaching down and pulling him up into a dominating kiss. It satisfied her momentarily, but before long she was striving for more, tugging almost desperately at his t shirt, her movements frantic and lacking all control.

He was less muscular than Ghost or MacTavish, but he was still toned, his muscles clearly defined and highlighted beneath his skin as her fingers raked across them. Settling herself on biting at his collar bone, she fumbled with his belt, thumbs hooking into the elastic of his boxers as soon as she was able. She fought to push them down, but Toad stopped her quickly, firm hands at her wrists.

"_Wait… _Unless you actually _want _maternity leave…" He staggered back from her, his trousers and boxers hanging low so that his hip bones were clearly visible. After a quick rummage in his bedside drawer he was back, his mouth distracting her with tortuous kisses to her face and neck. When he spoke his mouth was pressed against her ear, his voice low. "Stand up…"

"Why?"

"Because I'm not doing this over my decks…" To prove a point his hands shot down to her hips, supporting them whilst he lifted her upwards. Lara was powerless but to hang on with her bare thighs, their hips grinding from the action. It seemed to affect Toad more than it affected her, and he groaned softly against her ear. "_Fuck it_…"

Any thoughts of actually making it to his bed seemed lost in seconds, Lara's back pressed against the cold wall, her legs still wrapped tightly around his waist when Toad snapped his hips forwards, forcing a sharp gasp from Lara's mouth. She tried to kiss him clumsily in return but his mouth seemed to be everywhere, lips raking across her neck, jaw and shoulder. In the end she gave in, tightening the grip of her thighs, content to simply ride out the feeling.

Toad was strong enough to support them for a decent length of time but eventually he legs buckled beneath them and they toppled sideways to the floor, the sniper landing clumsily on top of her. The pain was immense, but she tried not to register it, silently hoping that her release would be enough to block it out as he began to move his hips again. When he finally tensed and collapsed on top of her, Lara was lost in her own world of hopeless abandon, her thoughts well and truly lifted out of her control.

It wasn't like with Ghost. Toad made no move to get off her straight away, instead propping himself up above her on his elbows, his mouth pressing a fleeting, tired kiss to her lips. It was nothing like they'd shared before, managing to be compassionate without attempting to be loving or overly sentimental. He grinned, his light brown hair ruffled into unkempt tufts from Lara's frantic hands.

"No regrets, right?"

"None." She laughed softly. "More like tension release…"

"Yeah…however unconventional." He smirked. "Fucking, sparring, it all does the job in the end. Fucking's more fun though_. Usually."_

He finally moved to stand, carefully climbing off her and pulling up the boxers that had pooled around his ankles. He watched her stand slowly, handing her what remained of her clothes with a soft laugh. "Why do I feel fifteen again?"

"Because we didn't even make it into bed?"

"Maybe…" He shrugged. "Or it could just be that weird feeling I've got… like when I used to be terrified of my Dad running in when I was in the middle of something." He laughed, catching the t shirt that Lara threw in his direction. "He'd have a long way to come to catch me this time though…"

It was almost scarily on cue, but before Lara could reply there was a loud banging at Toad's door, the wood shaking in its hinges. Lara instantly jumped, grabbing her shirt and pulling it up to cover her exposed torso. Fortunately the door never actually opened, a loud, pissed off Essex accent instead yelling out from outside.

"Chris! I can hear that shit you call music in the fucking rec room!" Lara tried to suppress a childish laugh as Toad gave her an over exaggerated look of exasperation, a wide grin spreading across his features. He lifted a finger to his lips, before reaching over to turn down the music.

"You know me, Jeff. I _hate_ quiet."

"Too fucking right." The gruff voice replied. "Either way, the next time you decide to have a wank over your music, turn it _down_."

As soon as they heard footsteps along the corridor, Lara allowed the laugh she'd been holding back to finally spill from her lips, Toad giving her a smug smile in return. He pulled on his t shirt quickly, rolling his eyes. "Wank over my music? If only he knew…"

"What would he say?"

"Fuck knows…" Toad shrugged softly. "I'll tell you one thing though."

"What?"

"Part of me wants to find out…" 

* * *

><p><strong>Ok, so Lara's a whore, but at least she has a lot of fun while she's at it. :P As always, a huge thank you from me for reading this far and if you fancy throwing me a review then you know where the review button is. :D <strong>

**-x-Sass-x- **


	5. Heart Beats For: SoapxBones

_**Warning!**__I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course. _

**Note from Sassy: **Ok, so whilst I desperately attempt to get the beast of a chapter that is CITS 23 up and running, I decided to post a one shot that I wrote pretty much as soon as I finished the MW3 storyline. Basically, I played the game and became a little fascinated with it, especially with the concept of Soap/Bones in a MW3 setting. So I wrote this little piece, something that I wasn't sure if I should share or not, but in the end decided to. It's pretty damn AU, mainly because I wanted to give Soap longer to recover in the safehouse in India. I should also probably say that it is by no means an indication of how I would write a MW3 sequel to CITS. It was just some plot inspiration that simply wouldn't leave me alone, although due to the subject matter it's not exactly the most cheerful thing in the world. Either way, it's unbetaed, but dedicated to my awesome beta and best pal **MisMot **and she knows why. :)

_A little bit of background for this one:_ A month or so after Shepherd's death, the team are holed up in Nikolai's safehouse in Himachal Pradesh, India, gathering themselves and planning their next move whilst Soap recovers from his injuries. Price, Soap and Bones are the surviving members of TF 141, with Lara and MacTavish continuing a romantic relationship that started before Shepherd's betrayal.

**I'm also slapping on a SPOILERS warning, just in case. ;) **

* * *

><p>After Carrie, Soap had been so sure that he would never fall in love again. Not because he was incapable of the emotion, but simply because he was convinced that he'd never get a second chance. There were other women, of course, but MacTavish never looked on them with the same affection as he had for her.<p>

And then, a new recruit turned his entire world on its head. _Lara McCoy_. The stubborn medic who blundered into his life and saw fit to stay.

A lot had changed in a year. The woman he loved had grown from the fresh faced medic that had joined the 141. Now, she was sat on what could loosely be called a kitchen counter, her rifle parts lying beside her on a grubby towel as she cleaned them. The safehouse that they'd been forced to call home didn't exactly cater to women and as a result her body was swamped by men's clothes, a baggy green t shirt hanging loosely off her shoulders, grey shorts exposing her cut and scraped knees. On her face was a look of extreme concentration, her long, unkempt brown hair all pulled to one side. Nothing about her was for show anymore and yet Soap found himself watching her. In fairness, anything was preferable to focusing on the stale bread he'd been so eloquently told to ram down his neck by Price. Besides, when she was quiet and distracted it was easy to pretend that McCoy wasn't haunted by the daemons that he knew stalked them both.

"You can stop that right now." Lara said bluntly, not even bothering to look up at him. MacTavish raised an eyebrow in surprise, but he chose to stay silent. "You're stalling. You heard Price, the more you eat, the faster you can get a rifle back into your hands. If you're not going to listen to me then for God's sake at least see sense and listen to _him_."

"Why can't I just be looking at you?"

"Because I look like shit." A slight smile played out across her features and yet she still didn't stop to look up at him once. "And like I said, I _know_ what you're doing."

"Whatever." Rolling his eyes, Soap forced another mouthful of bread down, holding back a grimace at how dry it made his mouth feel. He shifted in his seat instead, the stitches in his abdomen groaning with pain. A sharp hiss left his lips before he could stop it.

"Is the pain still bad?" Now Lara _was_ looking at him. She watched him with searching eyes, her gaze fixed on his torso.

"It's... uncomfortable." MacTavish moved again, his features straining.

"What have I told you about lying? I'll get you some more pain killers-"

"No. You know I can't stand pills."

"It's not about what you can _stand_, it's about what's best for _you_."

"_Lara..._" Even after all this time, the act of saying her first name still had an almost pacifying effect on McCoy. Slowly, Soap stood up from the table and stepped over to where she was sitting at the counter, his body positioned between her legs. He gave her a soft smile as he raised his right hand and rested it on her upper arm. "I'm ok." His hand moved up to cup the right side of her face, his thumb stroking gentle circles into her cheek. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But you were." She shook her head. "I should know. I had your blood all over my hands."

"And you and Price saved my life."

"So what happens the day that I can't?"

It was there. McCoy's voice had been blank and monotone, but Soap was able to see past that. In her eyes was the same fear he'd seen countless times since Shepherd's betrayal, anguish locked up deep behind her eyes. He knew that she tried so hard to hide it, not from him, but from herself. After all if there was one thing that McCoy hated to see herself as, it was weak.

"_Hey._.." He leaned in on instinct, pressing the slightest kiss to her lips despite how painful it might have been. "Is that what this is all about?"

"What do you think?" Her response was almost bitter, a knee jerk reaction that Soap recognised instantly.

"Don't shut me out." The tone of her voice had said it all, and Soap held her face steady in front of his, forcing her to look him in the eye as he spoke. "Remember, we swore that we wouldn't do that."

The first week or two had been tough. Soap was drifting in and out of consciousness most of the time whilst he stabilised and Lara had fought to keep everything together in his absence. They'd had Price and Nikolai, but the group was split, divided, everyone retreating into themselves in order to find some way of getting through their grief. Even when he had started to improve, Soap and Bones had merely been surviving together, never stopping to actually sit down and talk about how exactly they were feeling. But it was naïve to think that things would carry on like that. When the pain had become so great that it forced them to confront each other, they had finally given in, swearing that they would never shut each other out like that again.

"I don't know what you want me to say." McCoy said softly, although now at least she wasn't trying to avoid his gaze. "I just... can't think about losing you. Everyone else damn near killed me. If I lost you too it'd finish the job."

"Lara, you know that I can't-"

"I _know _that you can't promise me that you'll be ok." She shook her head, blinking hard. "But I can't stand knowing that someday I might be completely fucking powerless when it comes to you. I can't take that again. Not after Gary and the others."

"I'm not going to get shot up in a hurry." He was pretty sure that words weren't going to do him any good right now and so MacTavish reached forwards, pulling her into him so that his arms were encircling her waist. He felt Lara's head rest on his shoulder and kissed the side of her head instinctively. Her grip tightened around him slightly. "And you're not alone feeling like this." He kissed her head again. "Every time I see you holding a rifle I think the same thing."

"I'm not the one with a track history of close calls." McCoy pulled back from him, an accusing eyebrow raised.

"There's a first time for everything."

"It's still not me that I'm worried about though."

"And you know that I can never leave Price, whatever happens." MacTavish shrugged. "He's saved my arse too many times. He deserves that loyalty at least."

"Then I guess he has mine too." A small smile pushed across Lara's features. "Since I can count on him to save your skin when I'm not around."

"Aye, he's good at that." He stroked a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes, before leaning in and kissing, this time on the lips. The kiss was languid and slow, filled with a multitude of emotion that Soap would never be able to voice. When he spoke again, he kept their faces close, his forehead resting against hers. "Just keep talking to me, ok?"

"And that goes both ways, right?" She pulled back from him a little. "No more hushed conversations with Price that I'm not supposed to hear?"

"I thought you were asleep." Soap remembered the night in question immediately; a time where Price had dragged him into an untimely deep conversation outside their room just as he'd be. "What did you hear?"

"A lot of whispering. I was half asleep, I didn't get any details." She gave him an unsure look. "What wasn't I supposed to hear?"

"The kind of stuff you talk about when you're a kid. Hopes, dreams, things that are likely to never happen."

"You mean Price dreams about things that _aren't_ cigars and whisky?"

"You'd be surprised." MacTavish smirked. "But I was talking more about myself there."

"Ahhh…" Lara gave him a knowing smile. "So what is it that _you _dream about?"

"Honestly?" MacTavish raised a scarred eyebrow, his voice soft, almost as though he was asking for her permission to continue.

"Honestly."

"As clichéd as it might sound… _You._" He shrugged, leaning back away from her so that he could read her facial expression clearly. "There's this village, just east of Elgin. Practically the middle of nowhere. I always had this insane hope that I'd live there someday; just somewhere I could be at peace. I'm not like the other lads. I can't stand to be someplace like Hereford where the name of everyone I've lost is emblazoned on some bloody clock tower."

"And don't tell me, we'd have a farm and the idealistic country lifestyle, eh?" Lara laughed.

"You can be a sarcastic cow sometimes, you know that right?" Soap shook his head, gently slapping his hand against her arm. "But you know what I mean. We'd be together. A real life, honest to god, monotonous _couple_."

"It doesn't sound so bad." Lara smiled. "There's a lot worse out there."

"Then let's do it." The words leapt out from MacTavish's mouth almost of their own accord.

"Sure, I'll get right on to _Farmer's Weekly_."

"_Lara-_" This time his voice was stern. Taking time to moisten his lips, MacTavish let his hands slip down to Lara's lap, automatically taking hold of one of hers as best he could. Only when he held her gaze did he attempt to continue. "Just..." His throat was suddenly impossibly dry. "...Marry me?"

"_What?_"

"You heard me. Or are you selectively deaf when it comes to proposals?"

"Are you insane? John... for all we know we could be dead in a week..."

"And?" He rolled his eyes, squeezing her hand tighter. "What's so wrong with wanting to live through all of this? For thinking about something more than Makarov, guns and fucking destruction?" He was raising his voice now, so he took in a deep breath, reigning himself in considerably. "Lara. I love you. You love me. If I'm mad for trying to pursue the one positive thing that I have in my life then I must be fucking crazy, ok?"

There was a tense, rigid moment where Lara simply stared at him, her face blank and emotionless. And then, when her lips finally found his again, Soap had his answer.

"You're a twat." He didn't know how long they'd been kissing, but when Lara pulled away from him to speak, MacTavish was left wanting more. Instead he gave her his best coy look, attempting to hide the grin that was threatening to burst out across his features.

"A twat that you're stuck with though, eh?"

"Maybe." McCoy sighed, lifting her hand up in front of his face. "I seem to be missing a ring though, so I guess we can't call it official."

"Forgive me for not nipping out to the jeweller's..." MacTavish laughed. He paused for a moment, clearly contemplating his next move. In a smooth, self assured move, he let go of McCoy's hand, bringing both of his hands up to the neck of his t shirt. Fishing his fingers beneath the fabric, he hooked the chain around his neck in his fingers and lifted it up above his head. "Will this do?" His dogtags were left dangling in front of Lara's face for illustration.

"You've got to be kidding me..."

"I'll take that as a yes." Grinning, MacTavish placed the chain over Lara's head, his dogtags clinking as they dropped into position on her chest. He smirked, leaning down and kissing the fabric covering her sternum as best he could.

"_Careful..._" Bones tried to sound cautious, but her meaning was lost as she wriggled on the counter, one of her hands finding the back of his head. "Price could walk in any second."

"True..." MacTavish smiled into her t shirt, his right hand already making its way up her left thigh. He straightened up, partially to alleviate the pain in his abdomen, and partly to gain access to her neck, his lips raking across her skin. "But, it's worth it, right?"

"It depends." The soft gasp that left McCoy's lips was undeniable. "Just watch your stitches... ok?" She bit her lip when his hand pushed into her shorts. "I'm still your doctor..." 

* * *

><p>A month later, those same dogtags were steeped in blood.<p>

The air stank of iron and dust. The room was filled with yelling, screaming and the sound of ricocheting bullets. Boots slid on the red slick of blood across the floor, whilst body armour clattered against the walls as men dove into cover. At a cleared table in the centre of the room, a medic pressed gauze after gauze hopelessly to fatal wounds.

"_No, no, no, no, no_!"

The words left their owner's mouth as more of a primal howl than anything else.

"Soap..." Price's hands were shaking at his shoulders and yet MacTavish could barely feel them. "I'm sorry... I'm _so sorry_."

"She's not fucking _dead!_"

"She's gone, son..." Price's grip began to dig into the skin that was left exposed by his body armour. "We have to go... _now..."_

But Soap didn't hear him. Instead he turned back to Lara, to where her hands were still limply clamped around his. He flexed his fingers experimentally, longing to feel the vice like grip that had been there only moments before. Instead, McCoy's fingers only continued to loosen from the action.

Her eyes were glassy, still staring into his. Price moved to close them and Soap batted his hand away, replacing it with his own. Pushing her eyelids closed only served to make McCoy seem more peaceful, her blood staining the pale skin of her face as it streaked from his fingers. MacTavish's stomach lurched as he was suddenly at a loss for what to do next and he bent over, his lips pressing against hers gently, as though she might break. The mouth he found there was familliarly warm, but uncharacteristically still.

"Soap!" This time, no one was asking. Two pairs of hands were pulling him backwards, no matter how hard he tried to fight them. In his ears he could hear both Price and Yuri yelling at him to stop, and yet still Soap pulled away from them, his arms lashing out as much as they physically could. There was another panicked cry from his right and the building walls suddenly shook, dust and splinters of wood flying all around him like confetti. Lara's body didn't react to the impact and Soap screamed again, determined not to leave her as his boots skimmed across the floor with little traction.

His final scream was cut short as a sharp, heavy impact on the back of his head rendered him silent, every bit of grief racking his body descending into an empty darkness. 

* * *

><p>When he woke up, Soap was ten minutes out of Prague, locked up in the darkened back of a van with Yuri and Price slumped in front of him.<p>

They both knew that he was awake and yet they didn't try to interact with him. Soap preferred it that way. Gathering his knees up under his chin, he linked his hands together, forcing his head down into his knee pads so that his eyes were once again steeped in darkness.

_They were back in the clock tower. Soap's sights were trained on the target building, his finger hovering over the trigger. He could see Price and Yuri clearly as they set themselves up to rappell down to the balcony that he and Lara had cleared only moments before. _

"_You're all clear, Price." Lara spoke out over the radio, her voice, quick, clean and clinical. MacTavish had had to resist the urge to throw an almost proud smirk in her direction. _

_The moment he'd seen Kamarov down his scope, Soap's stomach had lurched involuntarily. He'd been instantly sickened, time suddenly slowing down as he watched Price run from the room. Right then, all he'd been consumed by were thoughts for his friend and mentor. _

_And then, a beep. The ominous sound of C4 being activated right above their heads. What happened next had been a blur. He could remember turning to Lara in a flurry of movement, watching as she suddenly leapt out towards him, pushing him backwards out of the window, a panicked cry leaving her mouth. His body suddenly suspended in mid air, Soap could remember watching Lara falling out in front of him, the bell tower exploding in a cacophony of hideous bell chimes and collapsing rubble. Her body had tumbled quicker than his until he lost sight of her completely. The next time he opened his eyes, all he could see was the faint silhouette of her body, pinned below a thick sheet of plasterboard. _

Lara. The sudden image of her in front of his mind's eye sent Soap's entire body shaking. Forcing his eyes shut even tighter, Soap bit down hard on his lip, desperately attempting to push a different image across his vision.

_Two nights before, they'd been stuck in another godforsaken safehouse, preparing for their operation in Prague. They'd been examining intel well into the early hours, their eyes practically closing of their own accord when they'd finally staggered into their makeshift beds. Lara had joked about the cold, huddling closer to him in an attempt to steal a little of his warmth. He'd pretended to push her away, before curling his arm around her and pulling her close within the confines of her sleeping bag, McCoy's laugh being the thing that he had finally lost consciousness to. Right then, he'd been so sure that the only thing keeping him sane was the fact that they were facing each and every fight together._

Back in the present, McCoy's laugh had never felt so faint, and as Soap continued to try and find sanctuary in his own thoughts, he suddenly became aware that it would only ever become fainter.

"Soap..." Price's voice roused him enough to open his eyes, and MacTavish slowly lifted his head. What he saw served to hold his attention. "Here..." Price extended his arm, holding out a tangled bundle of chains towards him slowly. Soap chose to say nothing, instead accepting the dogtags and a silent nod from Price. The metal was still tainted with blood, shimmering grey in the gloom, but so was the rest of his body, his arms, legs and torso stained crimson from where he'd carried her through the streets. Leaning forwards, Soap hooked the dogtags around his neck, the cold, sticky metal sending a shiver down his spine as it came into contact with the skin of his chest. He made no effort to disentangle his dogtags from McCoy's.

He waited purposefully for Yuri and Price to fall asleep, and only when they did did Soap reach for his field journal. Reddened thumbs flicked through the grubby pages, his eyes scanning for a particular image. It was a random doodle from almost a year ago, a pencil sketch that he'd managed to make of Lara whilst she'd been attempting to play pool with Roach and Toad. She was smiling, that wide, natural grin that she'd always hated because she claimed that it made her mouth look too big. Soap could remember Archer clearing his throat knowingly as he'd quickly glanced over his shoulder, and MacTavish had retreated back to his room somehow sheepishly to finish the sketch by memory and away from the prying, if understanding eyes of his friend. Now, MacTavish only wished that he'd had the balls to draw her more often.

His hand was shaking as he pulled his pencil out from his pocket, his grip around the wood tight, as though it might slip away any second. Compensating for the swaying from the moving van, he slowly began to scrawl the date beside her picture, his hand trembling the more he wrote. When it came to writing her name, Soap found himself wanting to change McCoy to MacTavish, if only to see it written down, just this once.

He snapped the journal shut before he could write anymore, tucking it hastily back within his shirt. His grip on the pencil became so tight that it snapped within his palm and he threw it aside with disgust, his hand hitting out against the floor of the van in frustration. He wanted to cry, to _scream_, anything to bring him even the smallest form of release, but despite his efforts his eyes remained dry.

His head falling back against the hard metal of the van wall, MacTavish forced his eyes shut again. He tried to focus on the swaying movement of the van to soothe him, but it did nothing but serve as a unsucessful distraction for his mind. His thoughts soon settled on anger, on Makarov, the Russian suddenly consuming everything in his mind. Soap hissed inwardly, his hands balling into tight fists, his finger tails biting deeply into his palms. This time, Makarov had taken away too much.

Gone was the child like naivety that Lara had provided him with, their hopes and dreams now as cold as the woman who had been taken from him. Now, the aims in Soap's life had become very simple. He would kill Makarov. For Roach, for Ghost, for Bones, for every single life that the Russian had believed that he had the right to take. He would end his life in the most painful way possible and no longer give a shit about the consequences. After all, now MacTavish was just like Price. Killing Makarov was the one thing he had left to live for. 

* * *

><p><strong>Well... On a positive note, at least I worked out a way to make Soap live. : As I said though, this came totally out of the blue for me, I was just intrigued to explore the concept. As always, a huge thank you for reading this far, and of course, you know that any reviews/favourites/messages make me ridiculously happy. You guys keep me writing when it's 2am and I've just finished a lab report. :D **

**-x-Sass-x- **

**Randomly, the title for this one shot comes from one of my favourite Soap/Bones dubstep tracks, 'Heart Beats For' by Seventh Stitch. It's definitely worth a youtube search! :D **


	6. Bedside Manner: GhostxBones

_**Warning!**I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course. _

**Note from Sassy: **Over a year ago, the fabulous **UrgentOrange** prompted me to write a drabble about Ghost being the one to look after Bones for a change and thus, this fic was born. Now, I have finally forced myself to sit down and finish it, mainly as a 'Get Well Soon' present for the lovely lady herself. As a result its unbeta'd, so any mistakes are most definitely my own.

And as always, a huge thank you for everyone who has left me such beautiful feedback for Caught in the System and this AU set of drabbles. I am so lucky to receive such lovely praise! :)

Not much backstory to this drabble either. Here we're in a world where Bones and Ghost have been sleeping together for a few months although neither of them have made any attempt to make the relationship any more than simply a physical one.

_**-X-X-X-X-X-X-**_

"_Oi... Bones! You in there?"_

It had been a standing joke in University that Lara McCoy was the worst patient amongst the medics in her year. Almost a decade later, it transpired that there were some bad habits she still hadn't quite grown out of.

Her knee was on fire. Every time she attempted to move her right leg, a burning pain seared up the inside of the joint, as though something was tearing into the fibrous tissue there. Standing was agonisingly difficult, her right leg feeling as though it might buckle whenever she attempted to put weight onto it.

In short, as McCoy sat in her office, her leg lying on her desk in an elevated position and an ice pack held to the inside of her knee, it was safe to say that she was in no mood for visitors.

There was another loud knock at her door and Lara stayed silent, willing them away as she pressed the ice pack slightly harder against her skin. She inwardly kicked herself for not having had the presence of mind to lock her door when it started to open before her eyes, Riley's head suddenly becoming visible as he craned his neck through the gap. He gave her a half pissed off, half amused look, something that had become a trademark of his.

"You're shit at this whole 'playing hard to get' thing, darlin'."

"What do you want, Riley?" There was a blatant sense of irritation in McCoy's voice as he casually stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Did you forget that I was at training this morning?" The lieutenant rolled his eyes. He was still in his training gear, his green t shirt sticking to where his torso had become slick with sweat. His face was still ever so slightly red from the exertion, the skin glistening, a few wisps of blonde hair plastered to his forehead where his mask had been. "I saw you go down pretty hard, remember? You limped off before anyone could say anything about it." He shrugged idly. "So consider this me checking up on you."

"I appreciate the sentiment." Lara's voice remained cynical as she attempted to adjust her position in her seat with limited success. Her legs were still scuffed with mud where she'd tumbled to the floor during her second run of the assault course. "But I'm fine, _really_. It's nothing I can't handle."

"So what's the verdict?" He nodded purposefully to her knee.

"I don't know... a sprain most likely. If I had to guess, I'd say it was the medial collateral ligament." She smirked, momentarily enjoying the look Riley gave her in response to the medical jargon. "The ligament that runs up the inside side of my knee." She shrugged. "It's hard for me to say how bad it is right now."

"Can I take a look?" The question caught her completely off guard, and Lara's face must have reflected that. "Come on, Bones. I'm a soldier... I've had every fucking knee injury in the book."

"Riley... there's no need. Seriously, I'm _fine_."

"Oh yeah, you look it." He shook his head, advancing on her slowly. Her injury making her a captive audience, Lara could do very little to stop him as he moved the ice pack aside, an involuntary hiss escaping his mouth at the sight. Although she'd treated it as quickly as she was able, her knee was still painfully swollen. "Shit... that looks nasty."

"I've felt better."

"You've looked it too." The lieutenant smirked, his eyes meeting hers briefly. He paused for a moment, hesitating as though he was calculating his next move. "Ok... first things first, we've got to get you moved." He swiped his hand across the desk in illustration. "You're dripping all over your paperwork."

"I can't walk right now, Simon."

"Who said you were walking?"

"Hell no, don't you fucking dare!" Lara caught his meaning immediately. "You are _not_ bloody carrying me."

"You're in no position to argue. Besides, not like I don't know the way to your room, is it Lara?"

"_Fuck you._" McCoy spat, although she was already beginning to come around to the idea as the logical half of her brain realised that this was her best option for getting back to her room. She reached for a small folded bandage on her desk quickly. "Fine... But I swear to God, if you tell anyone about this then I'm going to deny it, ok?" She grabbed hold of the ice pack as well, holding both the objects in her right hand expectantly.

"I wouldn't expect anything less." He grinned, manoeuvring her so that she was in a better position for him to lift. With a small grunt of pain from McCoy, he helped her to stand and by fully supporting her weight they managed to hobble towards the door, Riley opening it with his free hand. Once out in the corridor, Riley lifted Lara in a single fluid motion, ever careful that he only gripped the left side of her body.

Opening her bedroom door had been awkward, but eventually Riley managed to push down the handle with his hip, his shoulders nudging the door open so that there was enough room for them both to edge into the room. Letting the door fall shut behind him, Ghost headed straight for the bed, gently setting Lara down on it so that her back was resting against the headboard. Without being told, he moved the pillows so that they were cushioning her back, before grabbing a clean pile of towels from her bathroom and using them to elevate her knee.

"Um, thanks." McCoy was in the process of rearranging the ice pack on her knee when he took it from her and did it himself, before taking the bandages from her too and putting them on her bedside table. He gave her a purposeful look. "I'm guessing that you want the swelling to go down a bit more before you bandage it up?"

"Yeah..." Her voice still a little dumbfounded, Lara gave him a weak smile. "You don't have to do all this shit for me, Riley."

"I know." He shrugged, sitting in the small space that was left beside her on the mattress. Lifting his left forearm illustratively, he pointed out a long scar that ran up to his elbow. "Remember this? I got blind sighted by the wrong end of a combat knife. Was fucking lucky that all it did was screw up my tan." He laughed. "You spent forever and a day keeping it clean and checking up on me. Just like you do with every other fucker on this base."

"It's my job, Riley."

"Yeah well, doesn't have to be thankless, does it? Look, you complain when I'm nice and you complain when I'm an arsehole. At least if I'm being nice you get something good out of it in the end, right?"

"I guess." She smirked. "I'm just not so used to you being nice to me."

"Oh yeah? Next you'll be telling me that you don't think I have it in me to be any nicer."

"Well..." She grinned, meeting his gaze playfully. "I wouldn't disagree with that statement."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Not at all." McCoy laughed. "That would just be immature after all."

"_Riiiight_…" He gave her a measured look, his eyes seemingly skimming across her features, almost as if he was weighing her up. "You can be one hell of a conniving bitch sometimes, Dr McCoy."

When Ghost stood up and walked to the door, Lara was convinced that he was all set to leave. Instead, he simply flicked the latch so that it was locked, a resounding 'click' emanating out into the room. When she met his gaze again, his mouth was quirked up into an all too familiar smirk.

"Riley…" She was shifting on the bed slightly, although her knee once again rendered her largely immobile. That being said, she wasn't in any real hurry to deter him.

"_Shhh…_" He smiled again, sitting himself down on the bed beside her again. "For fuck's sake, Bones. Just shut up and let someone look out for you for a change…"

Before she could really argue, Ghost was leaning in, his lips fleeting as they moved across hers. Teeth gently nipped at her bottom lip, a move that always sent Lara just that little bit insane. His tongue was next, lapping across her bottom lip before pushing into her mouth. Tilting her head to one side, McCoy did very little except comply, her muddied hands moving up to loop around his neck. Her fingers found the prominent tendon at the back of his head and her hands slipped down further, exploring the prominent ridges of the muscles that lay across his shoulders.

He pulled away abruptly, a shit eating grin spread out across his features. His hands slid down to the hem of her t shirt. "A little overdressed, aren't ya?" He didn't stop and wait for a reply, his hands already tugging the fabric up and over her head.

She may have been rendered immobile by her injury but that didn't mean that Lara had any real intention of submitting too easily. Lifting her arms so that he could remove her shirt she soon focused on his, her hands pulling on the fabric in illustration. Riley laughed and quickly shed the garment, his fingers instantly messing through Lara's hair as she leant forward, her mouth pressing a trail of deliberate, lingering kisses along his right collar bone.

"_Hey…_" He pulled on her hair ever so gently; just enough to cause her to move away from him and meet his gaze. That smart grin was still firmly plastered across his face. "I thought this was about you?"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive…"

"Today they are…" He smirked, running his hands down from her neck and onto her shoulders, the gentle pressure pushing her back down so that she was lying on the bed. "Just relax… A couple of hours out of control isn't going to kill you…"

"Riley…"

"Shut it." He moved slowly, deliberately, settling himself on top of her in a way that showed that he was constantly being mindful of her right knee. With a hand either side of her head on the mattress he smiled again, the action a little warmer this time. "Just trust me."

_Trust._ She would have laughed at the thought of that not so long ago. Now there was no denying the bond between them, even if Lara herself couldn't remember exactly when either of them had first begun to notice it.

His mouth was on her throat, a soft, sucking pressure that moved in a line across her skin. He paused at the join between her neck and shoulder, his teeth adding just enough pressure to cause her to cry out in a soft hiss. Her reaction forced a soft, self-confident laugh from Riley's lips, the air cold against her damp skin. There really was no denying just how well he was beginning to know her. Then again, he'd certainly had enough practice.

Soon he was moving his way down her torso, his lips teasing as they pressed plentiful yet fleeting kisses against her stomach. The slower pace felt almost alien and oddly caring in comparison to any of their previous encounters. Back then it had all been about primal, frantic movements, nails raking against skin almost violently. But this time, it was calmer somehow. Suddenly all of the attention was focused solely on her, Riley taking care of her as though they had all the time in the world. As his hands slipped down to her shorts, the fabric pulled away from her body with ease, McCoy felt strangely self-conscious, the muscles of her back, neck and shoulders tensing ever so slightly. Relinquishing control was something she did so rarely that now it felt damn near impossible.

"_Riley_…" His mouth nipped at inside of her left thigh, bringing Lara's thoughts straight back into the present. She sat up slightly, resting on her forearms. The further extension of her knee forced a pained hiss from her lips. "I…" It wasn't until she opened her mouth to speak again that Lara became aware of just how tongue tied she'd become.

"What?" He looked up at her, one eyebrow cocked in confusion. His eyes flickered across her features, that rapid movement that usually signalled that he was trying to read her. It was something he did often and much to Lara's chagrin it was also something that he had proved to be very good at in the past. He watched a moment longer before an amused smirk spread across his lips. "You just can't handle it, can you?"

"Don't be daft."

"Lara McCoy… The world's greatest mindfuck." There was that eyebrow again, its quirked movement forever mocking her. He leant forwards, his face suddenly inches in front of hers. "You give me a run for my money with that one you know."

"And why do you say that?"

"Because you're lying there horny as hell and yet you're still worrying about shit. About being out of control. About what's going through my head right now. Hell, you're probably even panicking over the fact that this is the first time that I've ever really_ looked_ at you."

"You see me every day."

"You know what the hell I mean." He gave her a startlingly serious look. "You also know that I'm not going to sit here and spill my guts about you and me. But that doesn't stop you from being the only bloody thing I can think about when I'm away on an op."

"_Simon…_"

"Say one more word and I'm out of that door. No heart to hearts… you remember the rule." His words might have been harsh but the kiss he pressed to her mouth a second later was anything but. As always he seemed determined to preserve the duality of what he was willing to say and what he actually _felt._ After the past few months, McCoy expected nothing less.

She was kissing him back wholeheartedly, his words forever sticking in the back of her head. For him to actually voice them had made her head spin and yet still given her the reassurance that she had sub consciously been scrabbling for. In just one sentence everything had changed. However in keeping with the nature of their relationship the change was so subtle that no one but them would ever really notice that anything was different.

This time when Riley settled himself back between her legs, Lara fought hard to repay the trust that he had just, however fleetingly, shown her. She closed her eyes, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in an attempt to stifle a moan, a distinctive warmth beginning to spread through the pit of her stomach. Her hands moving up almost instinctively into his hair, McCoy arched her back against the mattress as best she could, the change in angle forcing a low groan from her lips. From then on there was little point in trying to stop the sounds from escaping from her mouth.

She collapsed back onto the bed, her body feeling leaden and heavy. Riley rolled off her gently, moving to the gap in the mattress on her left, his body lying half over hers. It wasn't an embrace in any real sense, but his hand was ever present on her right hip, his thumb slowly tracing the ridge of bone that lay beneath her skin.

They didn't speak but the resulting silence was hardly awkward even so. They'd both said enough and as always actions were always so much more potent than words when it came to them both. That being said, Lara had suddenly been given a great deal more clarity than she had anticipated. And not just an insight into Riley's thoughts, but an insight into her own as well. After all, in the beginning she'd never really known what it was that kept bringing her back to Ghost's bed. But now there was no denying the amount of comfort that just lying next to Riley had begun to bring.

Not that she'd ever admit that to him of course. On that subject McCoy could be just as tight lipped as Riley himself…


	7. Christmas with the 141: GhostxBones

_**Warning!**_ _I should probably warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all guys. :)_

_**Disclaimer: **__I own nothing to do with Soap, Ghost, or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. I do own Lara 'Bones' McCoy of course. _

**Note from Sassy: **Welcome to the Caught in the System Christmas Special a.k.a an opportunity for me to completely indulge myself and write the team all happy and alive again. I aimed to have this out in time for Christmas, but since I only started writing it on Christmas Eve, I should have been a realist and known that that was never going to happen. Please forgive me for putting it out a week late! Also, this chapter isn't betaed as I was impatient to get it posted as soon as possible, so apologies if there is the odd typo dotted around. And finally this one is completely and utterly dedicated to **UrgentOrange** and **LittleShinikami**, who are both fabulous human beings who've been going through a rough time of it and need something to bring a smile to their faces. Hopefully this fluffy sentimental piece does the trick!

**As a little bit of context, this is totally AU. There's no Modern Warfare 2, Bones and Ghost are still "together" and there's not even a Soap/Bones/Ghost love triangle in sight because I wanted to write something happy for a change. :P**

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><p>When most people uttered the words "Family Christmas" Lara was pretty sure that this was nothing like what they had in mind.<p>

They were all stuck on the base with no missions in sight and the festive season on the horizon. Shepherd had had a particular hard on about being caught unaware that year and as a result no one's requests for leave during the holidays had been granted. Needless to say that the majority of the 141 had not taken it well. Royce had been furious, that quiet, seething kind of wrath that had them all worried when they barely heard anything from him for a good couple of days. Roach had been gutted. He'd had his sister's gift bought from since October and now he didn't even have the chance to see her unwrap it. Lara had gone with him into the nearby town to get it sent out by courier and although Gary had appeared completely fine, there was no ignoring the deep disappointment locked away in his eyes.

Some of the men were pretty indifferent. Archer didn't seem to care where he was over Christmas so long as he could drink his weight in whisky and Lara didn't know much but she did know that his home situation was less than ideal. Toad had no real family himself anymore and as a rule spent most of his leave with Archer, so for him, spending it on the base didn't really change all that much.

And for Lara herself? In all honesty, the news had been a mixed blessing. Going home at any time of the year brought with it a whole host of complications that McCoy would much rather avoid. There'd be questions for a start and she wasn't so good at stone walling them yet; at least in the Paras she'd been able to talk about her work, in the 141 she had to all but deny that she was even still in the armed forces. And she loved her family, more than _anything_, but seeing them was bittersweet. At first she'd feel isolated, trapped because even her brother could never even begin to understand the things she had done and seen. And then by the end she'd find herself loathed to leave them, clinging to them with that one final hug before she boarded her flight back to the States. In those moments, she was simply overwhelmed with fear, convinced each and every time that this goodbye would be their last. The guilt that followed when she was alone and on the plane was something that could only be cured by a sleeping pill.

And so here they were; the downtrodden, the indifferent, the relieved, all preparing to hunker down and spend Christmas the only way the 141 knew how, with alcohol. There was talk of a Christmas dinner too and although Lara trusted the other men with her life implicitly, the thought of being taken out by some dodgy turkey was never all that far from the back of her mind.

It was Christmas Eve and no matter how disgruntled they might have all been everyone had come together in the rec room to prepare for the festivities. They'd managed to get the last available tree from the nearby town. It was a huge, behemoth of a thing, dominating the far corner of the room in such a way that the only way to move past it was to sidestep. Rook and Toad had returned with it and some dejected looking Christmas decorations triumphantly only to be met with the realisation that the ceiling was a good half a foot too low for the tree to even stand up. Archer had spent the majority of the evening grumbling under his breath as he and Ghost fought to hack through the thick trunk and shorten the tree enough so that it would actually _fit._

Now, the topic of begrudging conversation had switched to what to do with the slightly pathetic turkey the boys had managed to secure.

"You leave it out overnight, right?" Meat suggested, scratching his head. "My mom always left ours out overnight."

"That's when it's frozen, dumb ass." Roach rolled his eyes, nudging the other man aside. "You just cook it like regular meat, ok?"

"So BBQ then, boys?" Royce smirked around a bottle of beer. He'd cheered up enough to start playing devil's advocate at least.

"Screw you, bro."

"Oh for Christ's sake, you cook it upside down and then turn it over to crisp up the bloody skin, it's not fucking rocket science." It was safe to say that no one expected Archer to speak up at that moment, his face set in its usual pissed off expression as he dragged a particularly large bit of tree cutting past the kitchen area.

"Alright, Gordon Ramsay, _chill_…" Toad was loving this. "Where'd you learn that?"

"Had a girlfriend to cook for once, didn't I? We can't all just get them pissed like you, mate."

"_Ouch._"

"We need to stuff the turkey too." Roach was desperately trying to keep the conversation on track. "I know a recipe for a simple pork stuffing, if everyone's cool with that?"

"Count me out of that job." Royce laughed. "Get Chris to do it. Stuffing turkeys sounds just like his line of work."

"No way, bro. I never stuff something I paid for. Get Meat to do it."

"_You fucking c-_"

There was a loud crashing noise from somewhere behind her followed by a lot of laughter and Lara assumed that Meat had gone, quite rightly, straight for Toad's throat. She didn't bat an eyelid, although she did hope that neither of them broke something in the process. That was one Christmas morning surprise she could more than do without.

She'd decided to stay out of the turkey conversation from the moment it started, fully aware that Roach was a damn good cook, regardless of whether he talked about it with the others or not. The truth was that Gary would cook for his family back home whenever he could as it was his only opportunity and next to him she felt significantly outclassed. During her student days she'd burned more meals than she would like to admit and in all fairness Army life hadn't exactly blessed her with any cookery skills past reheating ration packs. As a result she'd decided to stick to something she _could _do; helping to decorate the rec room walls with the tinsel that Toad and Rook had been able to scrounge up. Currently she was balanced, albeit precariously, on one of the rec rooms fold out metal chairs, pinning a particularly limp looking piece of silver tinsel to the wall.

"_Shit…_" She'd overbalanced a little bit too much and the chair wobbled beneath her feet, her hands braced against the wall in an attempt to regain herself. It worked to a degree, although she still felt precarious as hell as the chair legs continued to wobble.

"I've got you." The chair steadied immediately and Lara suddenly became aware of a hand on her hip. She jumped at the touch, her eyesight shooting downwards to meet with a familiar pair of blue eyes. _Ghost._ There was an amused smirk spread out across his features, his eyebrows ever so slightly raised. Looks like that that usually made her want to kill him.

"Cheers." She glanced around self-consciously, worried that someone, somewhere might be staring. In reality she had no reason to be concerned; the rest of them were either still arguing about whether sprouts should be renamed as public enemy number one or were over helping Ozone try and decorate the tree that Toad had gotten bored with and wandered off from. She should have known really, for all his bravado Riley was cautious too; he would never show her any attention publicly unless he was absolutely certain no one else was watching. Even so she felt compelled to move away from him, quickly pinning the rest of the tinsel to the wall before jumping down from the chair. When she turned around to face him, she half expected him to have already left.

As it was, Riley was still standing there, maskless and with… _wait_, was that anxiousness in his eyes?

"Got a minute?" He was being brief even for him. Curiosity swelled within her even more. When she didn't immediately respond he obviously felt the need to elaborate. "Alone."

"Umm… sure, okay." She gave him a weak shrug, not bothering to hide her confusion. She was used to Riley acting strangely, but the way he was almost nervous? She hadn't seen that in him since the night he'd crashed her birthday celebrations. It was an almost sheepish quality, miles away from the arrogant, stand offish lieutenant that they all knew and loved.

With nothing more than a jerk of his head, Riley guided her outside the rec room into the corridor. She half expected him to lead her further to his room but he stopped abruptly just outside the door. When he turned around he looked at her, _really_ looked at her, his eyes searching. So often Riley was able to read her in ways that she didn't properly credit him with. Also, to understand Ghost you had to understand that eye contact was incredibly important to him. With his mask in place, his eyes were all he had to communicate with and even with it gone, the habit remained. As a result, Riley always seemed that much more at home communicating with body language and meaningful looks rather than with big, elaborate words. With anyone else it might have been unsettling, but with Riley, it simply _wasn't_. Lara wasn't going to pretend that she was an expert, but considering the time they had spent together, she'd become pretty astute at reading him too.

Right now he was nervous, pensive and agitated. He looked cornered, if she didn't know any better, terrified. Unexpectedly his right hand reached out and ghosted its way up her bicep, his fingertips barely even grazing her bare skin, almost as they were asking for permission. That certainly _wasn't _like Riley. Usually his touch was confident and possessive.

Then again, he'd never even shown her the slightest bit of affection anywhere on the base that wasn't either of their respective rooms.

"So… what did you need me for?" His touch fell away the instant she spoke, something in his eyes suddenly snapping back to reality.

"I didn't." He was always so much more at ease when he was playing about being a smart arse, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It didn't quite reach his eyes though.

"Well you implied it." Her hands came to rest on her hips as she gave him her best unimpressed look. "Quit toying with me, Riley. It'll be next Christmas at this rate."

"_Fine_…" The word came out as a drawn out sigh. "I just… have something for you, ok?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Christmas isn't it?" He replied with a rough shrug before reaching around to pull something out from his back pocket. A second later, a tiny package sat in the palm of his hand, its contents neatly wrapped in red tissue paper. His eyes caught hers again expectantly. "For you."

"But it's Christmas Eve…" Was that really the best she could bloody come up with? Lara inwardly kicked herself, her left hand moving to take the present from his hand. It was heavier than she expected, the paper rustling as it was gently crushed beneath her touch. Suddenly unsure, she looked back to him. "And I don't have anything for you..."

"I don't care about that." He gave her a genuinely honest smile. When she continued to hesitate he let out a frustrated hiss. "Would you just open it before one of those bastards walks in on us?"

If she hadn't been feeling so sheepish herself, Lara would have laughed at that. It would be just typical for Meat to burst in right now and end up with a fist to the face for being party to the great Simon Riley showing emotion. Instead, she gently prised her way into the tissue paper, being careful not to tear it. There was a jingle of metal and a thin chain dropped into her palm. It was sterling silver, shimmering slightly underneath the corridor's bright fluorescent lights. Threaded onto the chain was a small silver pendant, a skull, polished and oddly delicate.

"I know it's not exactly… conventional. But you didn't strike me as a diamonds kind of girl. Besides, I wouldn't know where to even _start _with all that shit."

"My secret's out, huh?" She laughed softly, examining it more closely. She skull sparkled slightly as the light caught the polished metal. "It's beautiful."

"It is?"

"Yeah…" She looked up and gave him a soft smile. "But why? I thought we didn't do gifts?"

"Well, we don't." His answer was blunt even if it was so obviously a lie. "But I'd been thinking, that's all."

"I thought I'd warned you about that before, Riley."

"My name's Simon." That caught her off guard. In all the time she'd known him, Ghost had never once asked her to call him by his first name. In fact, no one really called him Simon, even amongst the men who'd known him the longest. But now there was a frustrated quality to his voice, his fists clenching by his sides. "I'm trying to be serious here."

"Sorry…"

"Look… I just…" He was really fighting for words, moistening his lips with his tongue as his left hand messed through his hair. He was looking over her shoulder at the wall now. "… What happens if I don't come back from an op?"

"_Simon…_"

"No. Just… let me finish, ok?" His eyes were suddenly back on hers, fiercely determined where they had been anxious before. "I used to think that if something happened to me, that'd be fine. People would pretend to care, you know? They'd stick my name on a clock tower because someone thought they should and that would be all I'd be. A _name._" He swallowed hard. "The blokes here would remember me, sure. They'd remember Ghost, their XO, the man who busted their balls in training and hauled their arses out of the fire. And for a long time… that was enough for me. My family are gone. I thought there was no one left to remember the man I was."

"So what changed?"

"I did." He paused, watching her carefully. "The day I stopped pretending that all I was doing was fucking you."

Lara's heart thumped against her rib cage, so hard that it threatened to make her light headed. Her mouth was suddenly dry, her thoughts swimming. She wasn't an idiot, however much she may act like one. Even she had realised that something had changed between them. It hadn't been just about sex for months, hell the last few times they'd been alone they hadn't even had sex, Riley had just simply sat with her in her quarters, talked to her, mocked her about her appalling taste in music or the haircut she had in a family picture back when she'd thought a fringe suited her. And when they did actually have sex… it was inherently different. It had never lost its fire, she doubted that it ever would with the chemistry between them, but what had been all about tension release had become something _more_. Riley had always been a good lover, but suddenly he was more considerate, more selfless and less inclined to rush. Lara couldn't really deny that even after all these months, it was still the best sex of her life.

But here he was, her own personal ghost, maskless and human in front of her, admitting something that she had never even expected him to notice. Had she really underestimated him that much? Deep down had even she given up on him even though she'd spent hours trying to convince otherwise? Had he truly fooled her too?

Not that it mattered now, as she reached forwards, cupping his face with her free hand. Her thumb traced the long, thin scar that ran down the side of his face, a physical representation of the much deeper ones that existed far beneath his skin. He leaned into her touch, his eyes almost relieved as they searched hers. Never in a million years had she thought that she'd see him like this; the man who didn't want to feel, terrified at the thought of being forgotten. More importantly, she loved him for it.

A simple 'thank you' felt insufficient and so as Lara leaned in closer, pressing her lips to his, she somehow hoped that would be enough. Enough to show him how much she cared, how much his words meant to her. He kissed her back in earnest and suddenly they were in much more familiar territory, falling back ever so slightly so that Lara's back was pressed against the wall. The hand holding the pendant was caught in between them, her fingers wrapped around the delicate chain, keeping the object held protectively to her chest.

"Room for one more?" The sudden voice, most definitely neither of theirs, forced them apart, Lara jumping in her skin. She looked to her right, her eyes meeting with Toad's shit eating grin. In front of her, Ghost practically bristled with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. "Looks like Riley forgot the mistletoe though. A rookie mistake there, bro."

"Fuck off, Toad…"

"Hey… don't look at me like that, you were the one's making out in the corridor. Or did you forget?" He gave McCoy a knowing wink. "Because I know that feeling too."

"_Chris…_" This time it was McCoy speaking with a warning tone.

"Okay, _okay_. I'm leaving. Merry Christmas to you too, _jeez._" And with that the sniper headed down the corridor towards his room, his cocky laugh fading away as he walked. By the near murderous look on Ghost's face, it wasn't fading nearly fast enough.

"I'm going to kill him."

"_Please_… it's Chris. He won't say a word to the others." Ever the peace maker, Lara reached for his arm in an attempt to pacify him.

"I could still more than happily throttle him."

"You could, but think of the paperwork." She smiled, holding the pendant out to him expectantly. Regardless of Toad completely killing the mood, she had nowhere near forgotten any of what he'd said earlier. In truth she wanted to say more herself, but for now, playing it cool and saving that until they were truly alone seemed the best option. "Help me put this on will you? Archer will be coming out looking for him in a minute."

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><p>When they returned to the rec room, the Christmas festivities were in full swing. The food debate had thankfully long since been abandoned and instead the men had turned their attention to the other love of their lives, <em>drinking<em>. Apparently Royce had been eyeing up the rec room's stereo and threatening to play one of his famous 90s pop mega mixes, something that had forced Toad from the room in search of "real music" and unwittingly into Simon and Lara's own private festivities. True to form, when he eventually did re-enter the room armed with his mp3 player, Toad stayed quiet, throwing the smallest of smirks in Lara's direction. It went unnoticed to everyone else, thankfully even Riley, who had taken their conversation as some kind of unsaid permission for him to stay by her side in the rec room. They barely even touched, but having him next to her whilst they chatted with the others meant more to Lara than she thought possible.

Sometime later, Royce had donned a hideous yellow Hawaiian shirt that looked as though it had come straight out of the 80s. He was busily preparing cocktails that smelled far too sweet from halfway across the room, barking orders at Meat who was preoccupied with drinking vodka straight from the bottle. MacTavish and Archer were back to their usual routine, chain smoking and sipping their way through a bottle of whisky in the kitchen. Someone had made a half arsed attempt to line their stomachs by putting out some crisps in bowls in the centre of the room, but so far everyone seemed to be ignoring them in lieu of drinking more. Lara grabbed a handful just to show willing and was rewarded with a meaningful smile from Ozone. She should have guessed he'd be the one to try and look out for them all somehow. He was good at that, after all.

As the alcohol flowed, so did the dancing. Royce was the first up naturally, _hell;_ he didn't really need a drink to start throwing himself around the place like an idiot. Toad was next; drunk enough to think that trying to get Archer to dance was worth a black eye. The older sniper must have been overcome by Christmas spirit because for once he allowed Toad to drag him to the pseudo dance floor in the middle of the room. He didn't really move around much, but he did sway about a bit whilst sipping on his bottle of beer. Whether it was the alcohol or just an attempt to appease his best mate however, McCoy couldn't say.

Riley wasn't much of a dancer, but Roach certainly was after a drink and Lara was all too soon dragged up to dance with her best friend. They joked around, Roach all loose limbs, his cheeks that little bit flushed from Royce's vodka death punch. At one point he picked her up and twirled her round so hard that Lara fought to regain her balance back when her feet touched the ground.

If Riley was jealous then he wasn't showing it. Instead he simply smiled at her, casually watching out of what looked to be the corner of his eye. When Lara had his full attention, she risked him a quick wink, an action that was rewarded with a practically dangerous smirk from Simon.

He made good on that smirk when they were finally alone in her room, his hands and kisses raining down all over her. After they rode out the transition into Christmas day on a high together, he stayed, an arm wrapped loosely around her shoulders. For once, no nightmares seemed to haunt him that night.

As it turned out, Christmas with the 141 turned out better than any of them could hope for. The dinner turned out to be a success in that no one ended up with food poisoning after all and somehow amongst all the alcohol and the hangovers the men managed not to kill each other and increase Lara's workload over the Holiday. They simply coexisted like the crazy, dysfunctional family that in reality they were. Toad even managed to get a board game in for a good hour before Meat started getting all competitive and it turned into _another_ bickering session.

But then again, that's what families did at Christmas, right? Or at least it was what has always happened previously in the McCoy household anyway.

They weren't perfect. They drove each other crazy to a point where all they could do is bitch and moan sometimes. There'd always be a fight about taste in girls or music and if they weren't taking the piss out of each other then the chances were that they were likely threatening to kick the shit out of each other. But all the posturing and testosterone aside, they were a real cohesive unit, and Lara wouldn't have changed any of them for the world.

The 141 were more than a task force. They were a team, a brotherhood, a little world all wrapped up in itself. And to finally be a fully-fledged part of that was something that Lara would never, ever regret.

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><p><strong>So as always, a huge thank you from me for reading this far. I hope that this piece has given you a smile like it gave me as I wrote it. And also, I wish each and every one of you a belated Happy New Year. I hope it brings you everything plenty of love and happiness. :)<strong>

**-x-Sass-x-**


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